Maybe this time
by solveariddle
Summary: All Norma wants is to have a happy, normal life and all Alex wants is to make her happy and protect her. But when Norman comes back home from Pineview, they have to face dangerous truths that threaten their marriage and ultimately their lives. / Alternate version of how things could have played out in Season Four that begins right after the ending of 4x8 Unfaithful.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** This story carries on the events of 4x08 Unfaithful but veers into a different direction than the show. I want to find out how things could evolve if the triangle between Norma, Alex, and Norman had more time to unfold. Also I'm still traumatized by Norma's death and need a distraction (one in which she is very much alive). I LOVE Normero as a couple but also enjoy the twisted chemistry between Norman and Norma (mainly due to the amazing acting on this show). Therefore, all three characters will be an important part of this story. Just so you know what to expect.

One more thing: As far as Norman's character and the serious issue of mental illness is concerned, please keep in mind that this is fiction and not meant to be a clinical essay about his illness, its symptoms, and how to treat it properly.

 **Disclaimer:** Bates Motel and its beloved characters belong to A &E and the brilliant minds of Carlton Cuse and Kerry Ehrin. I'd never claim to be even remotely as talented as they are. Just let me have some fun. Thanks.

* * *

Every time she falls asleep, she forgets. And every time she wakes up, she remembers. Dawn is about to break, illuminating her bedroom just enough so that she can see the empty space beside her. Norma reaches out and touches the pillow, _his pillow_ , that is cold, lacking his body warmth.

 _Alex_. She was so happy with him. _Is_. Things are different, now that Norman is back home, but they only need time to adjust themselves to the circumstances. It's all gonna be good. That doesn't change the fact, though, that she misses her husband here and now. Norma sighs and immediately regrets it because Norman could have heard her manifestation of unrest. The walls are paper-thin in this house and their beds are only inches apart.

 _Norman_. Another empty space in her bed and life. She loved their sleepovers when he was little although her deceased ex-husband hated them because it meant that he had to sleep on the couch. And she also loved falling asleep or waking up in Norman's arms when he was older, too old to sleep in her bed anymore. She remembers the day Dylan told her that to her face with a pang of guilt and embarrassment. That was the day she broached to Norman that he couldn't sleep in her bed anymore and stuck to it, well, the one or other exception aside. She misses their closeness. Convincing Norman to commit himself to Pineview was the hardest thing she ever had to do in her entire life, but as often as she has practiced the advantages of cut and run, of hiding or squirming free of another shitty situation, she has learned that there are situations when the truth is the only way out, no matter how painful it is. The night Norman was taken to Pineview. The night she confessed to Alex what had happened between her and her brother. It doesn't get more painful than that.

So all she wants, all she _needs_ is the three of them living together and being happy. Is that too much to ask? Maybe it is. In light of what her life has been so far, probably way too much. Actually it's a miracle that Alex hasn't already left her considering what she told him about her past and Caleb. To expect that he deals with her mentally unstable son on top of all that is…

Norma sits up and listens when she hears something downstairs. Is he awake? After their dinner spun out of control yesterday and ended in a confrontation between Alex and Norman that almost became violent, Alex insisted on staying. She doesn't exactly know what happened between the two men outside, only that an ax and some yelling was involved. Well, they are all alive and kicking; therefore it couldn't have been too bad. Norma is no stranger to conniptions and her son shares her moody temper. Alex is the sheriff and knows how to handle difficult situations. However, what happened between him and Norman shook him.

 _I'm not leaving this house tonight._

 _You can't sleep with me tonight. I mean in my bed. I mean..._

Norma cringes as she remembers her response that came spontaneously off the top of her head. The moment she said it, she regretted how it sounded. As if she wanted to shut Alex off, as if he wasn't allowed to be near her anymore now that Norman was back when all she wanted, _all she wants_ , is to have both of them as close to her as possible – emotionally as well as physically. It has to work somehow because what if it doesn't?

 _I'm sorry._

She reached out to Alex, but he had already turned his back on her, walking into the living room.

 _I'll sleep on the couch but only for tonight. You are my wife._

Staking his claim. She is his and Norman has to accept that. She liked and didn't like his blunt statement at the same time. Alex doesn't beat around the bush when he wants something. _The Big Daddy of White Pine Bay._ She makes fun of it. Then again, he _is_ the sheriff, he _is_ her protector, has proven it in spades. Alex Romero being an alpha male is part of why she is so attracted to him. Yet, she disliked the pressure his words implied. They felt like a deadline. She has been living with too many threats dangling over her head during all her life. More pressure or threats is the last things she needs. Norma wants things to be better, they are _supposed_ to be better, now that she has a husband who adores her, now that Norman is getting help. Normal is just a breath away.

 _You know I love you, right?_

The people Norma told that she loved them can be counted on the fingers of one hand. Norman. Dylan. Norman's father (way back then when she thought she did). Dylan's father (because she needed him to marry her so that she could get away from home). Alex. She never told her mother or her father, never heard them say it to her or her brother either. When she loves, she loves deeply, maybe too much, gives everything she has and more. Nevertheless it always feels as if love is a stranger passing through, as if she could lose it any time. Life is so fragile. If she has learned anything, than it is this. Anything good can be taken away any moment.

So she needed Alex to be sure of her love. Now more than ever. Well, he knows already, but saying it out loud would maybe keep the demons at bay for a while longer until they have figured out how to handle this mess.

Alex sighed and Norma knew from instinct that he wanted to not say it back for once. Not to hurt her but to make a point. When he turned around to look at her, she saw in his face, though, that he was unable to resist her just as she is always, always unable to resist him. Their fates are inextricably linked.

He reached out and gently touched her face, caressing her lips with his thumb.

 _I know. Love you, too. Night, Norma._

She went upstairs, paused at Norman's door and knocked because she wanted to make her peace with him before she went to sleep, but he didn't respond and she didn't want to go into his room without his invitation. That was what she used to do, what she would have done weeks ago without hesitation but not anymore. How could she expect him to respect her privacy if she didn't respect his? His silence hit her hard, the rejection it was meant to be. So much has changed. In moments like these it felt as if nothing would ever be OK again.

 _Maybe this time I win._

Ever since Norma took Norman home from Pineview, the song is stuck in her head. She sang it at that stupid musical audition. It wasn't a random choice. Far from it, in fact. The words of this song always have moved her in a special way as if it was written for her, as if whoever wrote it knew her life and her longings. If only it could come true.

Norma hears something downstairs again and stands up. She might as well go down and face what the new day has to offer.

* * *

Alex has been awake for a while. He didn't sleep much last night, stared at the ceiling most of the time, dwelling on his thoughts or rather the events of the previous evening. Norma trying to yell some sense into her son, Norman taking a swing at him with an ax. Not exactly a normal family dinner, for sure not what Norma had hoped for. He feels sorry for her, but his compassion overlaps with something else, something that struck him as odd when he listened to Norman's tirade. Mental issues and territorial claims aside, shouldn't Norman be happy for his mother? Shouldn't he _want_ her to be happy?

 _Okay. Alex? There's something that you don't seem to understand. You can be married to her. You can be sleeping with her. But you're never gonna get in between us. This is our world. And that's what love is. Things can never change._

Norman's words rang false. In the end, it's not the image of Norman swinging an ax that didn't let him sleep. It were those words. They weren't the words of a son fearing that he will lose his mother's affection; they sounded like the words of a rejected lover.

"Morning."

Norma's light steps come down the stairs. The fact that she's awake already giving away that she didn't sleep well either. It satisfies him. That she can't sleep well anymore without him lying next to her.

"Hey." She kisses him, a shadow flitting across her face when he doesn't reach out to touch her like he usually does, but she covers it immediately. "Do you want coffee?"

"Yes, sure." He shouldn't be so curt with her. Norma does her best; Alex knows that, but the words and images of Norman keep floating around in his head.

"Norma, wait." He grabs her wrist when she turns around to go into the kitchen. "We have to talk about Norman."

Her expressions changes. She expected it. That doesn't mean she wants to have that talk. "Let's have coffee first, okay?"

She's stalling for time. He won't stand for that. "No. We have to talk about it now, before he wakes up. The things he said yesterday. The way he behaved. You have to tell me what happened the night we had him committed. I have to understand."

Norma slowly pulls her arm away, rubbing her wrist absent-mindedly. "He committed himself," she states. Semantics. More stalling. Then, "You, um, you saw what happened. Norman was confused and very upset and..."

"Norma, stop!"

Alex stands up from the couch, towering over her. Without her high heels they are not on eye level and he uses it to his advantage, knows that she responds to alpha men and their dominance. As long as he doesn't put too much pressure on her that is. Too much pressure and she will snap.

"What happened?"

He remembers their past cat-and-mouse-game of half truths and lies, of hidden love and obvious attraction. These days, there should be no reason to lie or hide anything anymore. He knows her darkest secrets. There can't be anything worse, right?

Norma screws up her face, takes a deep breath and lowers her voice, "Norman... he… he was very confused, delusional. He accused me of murdering his father, Blair Watson and Bradley Martin and… he wasn't himself." She tears up, the memories of that night clearly haunting her.

Alex takes her hand and softly caresses it. "Why did you call me?"

"Because I was afraid of him," she admits. "Because I didn't know what to do. He had never been like that before." The tears shimmer in her eyes. Sometimes Alex thinks Norma is most beautiful when she's on the verge of crying. "But he's better now. Norman would never... He would never hurt you or me. We just have to give him more time."

Her face is like an open book. Norma actually believes that they will work this out somehow. Alex is envious of her about her unabated optimism. After all the bad things that happened to her, she still believes everything will be good in the end.

"Did he threaten you?"

Norma breaks eye contact before Alex can read the answer in her face albeit the mere fact that she broke eye contact probably is a yes. "He didn't know what he was doing. He called me from Pineview, left a message and apologized for everything. You should have heard it. It was heartbreaking. _Please, Alex._ If you want to make this work, give Norman some leeway."

It's a fine line. Making sure that they are safe, and that includes all of them, while granting Norma her wish to give Norman the time he needs to get better. But here they go again. How could he deny her anything? Especially when he knows that Norma's love for her son is the one and only thing that has the potential to drive them apart. Alex is aware that she didn't tell him everything. Norma didn't lie, wouldn't do that anymore, but she left some things out. Her way of trying to make things work. It will take more talking to find out the rest, to make him understand what makes Norman tick and evaluate the position. Patience is not one of Alex Romero's virtues even though he might appear to be stoic to a casual observer. However, he has no choice. And she's worth it.

Alex enfolds Norma in his arms and kisses her. "Let's have that coffee you were talking about."

* * *

Norman wakes up and hears hushed voices downstairs. He turns his head to one side, then to the other, and the quick movement shifts the world, a sudden, unfamiliar tilt of his usual perspective. That's how everything feels, familiar and not familiar at once. It's the same house, he is sleeping in the same room, and yet, everything is different. There is a damned flat screen in the living room. His mother never would have bought such a monstrosity. It was _him_. The house doesn't even smell like it used to anymore. It used to smell like her. Everywhere. These days, he sometimes detects a whiff of the sheriff's after shave even if he is not there. Norman knows that he has been living here the entire time he has been in Pineview.

 _Sometimes,_ his mother conceded when he asked her. It was a lie. Just as…

 _We actually became good friends. He's a good man. And I like him._

 _Friends… Like…_ More lies. Soft-selling the truth because she thought he wouldn't be able to bear it. She loves this man. The sheriff. Alex Romero. And she was right. He can't stand it. The thought of his mother and her husband being together at this very moment, possibly talking about him, drives him crazy. Well, he is supposed to be the crazy one, anyway, isn't he?

The sheriff couldn't wait to get his hands on his mother, to get _her_. The same man who suspected him of murder twice and couldn't wait to put him in prison. And now he is married to his mother. Husband and wife. The mere idea feels as if someone is trying to poison him. It is sickening to see the ring on her finger. And yet… and yet… he was getting better at Pineview. Dr. Edwards actually helps him and the medication keeps his hallucinations at bay. Norman wants to get better. It's just that the thought is intolerable that Pineview simply was a ploy to get him out of the picture and make way for a honeymoon that would never have happened otherwise.

Norman walks into the bathroom. He dreads going downstairs, dreads a breakfast that will be as awkward as their dinner, but he has to eat, he has to live here. All he wants is to rewind time and have his mother all for himself. Hell, he could even live with the sheriff pining for her and badgering him from time to time if that's what it takes. But it's too late. They are married and they won't get a divorce. Alex as well as his mother made that perfectly clear.

 _I love him. And he loves me. And that is it. And you have to deal with it._

He was too enraged yesterday to let her words break him, but now every letter scratches his skin raw, every move feels heavy as if life is slowly drowning him. But he won't give up, he can't give up. For her. That's what he promised her.

 _I stayed in this world for you, mother._

Maybe she'll remember that if he just gives her time and continues to get better.

Just as Norman goes back to his room to get dressed, he hears something outside. Judging from the voices downstairs, they heard it, too, because they stop talking. He walks over to the window to look outside. There is a digger piling up soil just where the pit used to be that was filled up during his absence. Another one of Sheriff Romero's doings, he is certain about that. So why would they dig another pit at exactly the same spot? It's only then that he sees the water seeping out, flooding the street. A burst main.

The front door opens and closes as Romero walks out to check what is going on.

Norman smiles. The burst main bought him some minutes alone with his mother. Maybe it is all gonna be good as she loves to say. He just has to convince her that they need some slight adjustments to their living conditions. And if she won't listen to him today, he has to be patient. There is no way she loves the sheriff more than her own flesh and blood. He only has to make her remember that.

* * *

To be continued


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** Parts of this chapter are a strong T (or even light M) rating. So please only read if it's appropriate for your age.

The usual **disclaimer** applies.

* * *

Norma watches the workers outside through her kitchen window as she does the dishes. It's been three days and the construction site is expanding. Alex talked to them on the first day and they explained that there had been been a burst main and that they had to find and fix the leak before it underwashed the street any more. Although the workers seem to do their best, they are not very successful. Obviously there is more than one leak. So they keep fixing and the water keeps flowing nonetheless. One lane is flooded already; passing cars have to slow down in order to not spin out of control due to aquaplaning.

The ironic symbolism is not lost on her. The constant risk that something might spin out of control. The inability to fix things. The situation is muddled outside of the house as well as inside. But the worst is that the pit is back. They suspected the leak to be there and started digging. By now the pit is almost as deep as it was when Bob Paris dug it to intimidate her

She hears Norman walk across his room upstairs. They had lunch together and watched a movie afterwards. Now, that it's late in the afternoon, he excused himself and went upstairs as he does every day. Because late afternoon means Alex will be home soon. Norman won't come back down so that they can have dinner together. Norma worries that he doesn't eat enough. Yesterday he told her he wasn't hungry and would go to sleep early when she brought him a plate with food upstairs. She heard him rummaging around in the kitchen later in the evening, long after she and Alex had gone to bed, most likely looking for something to eat. It broke her heart, and yet, she didn't go downstairs because what could she possibly have said? _Why do you refuse to have dinner with us? We are one family._ They tried family dinner and everything went straight to hell.

So for now Norma accepts that Norman avoids Alex's company, and for now, Alex doesn't insist on clearing things up because it would inevitably lead to another confrontation as they all know. She is living two lives with two men under the same roof and never the twain shall meet.

It's ridiculous, they can't live like that, and yet, they do. She gets up early to have breakfast with Alex and then she has another breakfast with Norman because he sleeps in, especially now that the full effect of his medication has started to set in. He had another appointment with his doctor the day after the dinner incident and she suspects that Dr. Edwards increased the dose, whatever Norman might or might not have told him. Despite their rather brief talks Norma trusts Dr. Edwards. Call it primal mother instinct. She knows that if anyone can help Norman, then it's him.

The only time during the day that doesn't feel out of place is lunch and the hours that Norman and she spend together afterwards. It's only the two of them in the house like it used to be. Normal you could say if that term hadn't lost its meaning long ago, leaving a bad taste in her mouth whenever she thinks of uttering that word, something she loved to do because that's all she ever wanted. A normal life, a normal son, to be normal. Not this crap. Funny how just when normal felt within reach after she had married Alex, Norman's return home pushed it as far away as never before.

* * *

She hears the front door. Alex comes in, checking the room. Maybe it's because he's a cop, maybe he wants to make sure that Norman is not waiting for him with an ax or another sharp object in his hand.

"Hey." He takes her in his arms and kisses her as he always does, but it's not his usual hello kiss. Alex wants more. He leans back, one of his hands playing with a strand of her hair as he watches her. His face might be unreadable for others; Norma can read every twitch and tilt by now. And what she sees is pure, unadulterated lust.

When Norman was at Pineview, they had sex every day, more than once on most days actually. As if they had to make up for the time they had wasted before. It's been five days since their last time at the motel. Almost a week. They sleep in the same bed, but sex isn't an option with Norman in the next room and the paper-thin walls in this house.

Alex kisses her again, walking her backwards towards the kitchen table in doing so, his hands wandering down her spine to grab her backside, something he loves to do. He is about to lift her and place her on the table. She is wearing a blouse and a skirt. That comes in useful to him. Still...

"Alex, we can't make love on the kitchen table." Norma puts her palms against his chest to gently stop him.

"We can. We already did. Remember?"

She loves when his voice sounds like that. Breathy, sexy. Norma blushes. "Yes, but… Norman is upstairs. He will hear us."

Norma sees the sudden swell of anger flit across Alex's face at the mention of Norman's name even if he tries to hide it. Alex wants to help Norman, but he wants to do so for her sake not for Norman's and that's a difference. Perhaps he can't forget that Norman was a suspect. Once a cop, always a cop and all that. Norma hopes that there will come a time when Alex and Norman will genuinely like each other. Right now it feels as if this time is a million years away.

"We'll be quiet," Alex murmurs, half-lifting her up, half-pushing her down on the table.

For a brief moment it feels like a power-game, as if convincing her to have sex while Norman is in the house would give him a leg-up in whatever game it is they play. Alex could use the weight of his body to pin her down, but he would never do that, at least not against her will.

Therefore it doesn't take more than another gentle push of her hands to stop him. "We're never quiet."

That earns her a smile. His hands cup her face as he looks at her with what can only be described as sheer adoration. "No, you never are."

Norma blushes even more. Alex is the best thing that has ever happened to her. Aside from Norman's birth, that is, but that would be comparing apples to oranges. She has never felt safe with a man before, neither in bed nor beyond. With him she feels safe everywhere, as long as he is at her side. It's a cliché if ever there was one although it doesn't make it any less true. And he is right. She is unable to remain quiet whenever they make love. Suddenly her body aches for him. It's been too long. Five days are an eternity.

Alex notices the change in her face, his eyes following her tongue when Norma can't help licking her lips in anticipation. In an instant, his hands tug at her skirt, pushing it up. He believes he has convinced her. Well, he has, there is only one thing.

"Let's go down to the motel," she suggests.

He pauses to look at her. "We can't make love in our own house?"

"Alex… It was nice there, wasn't it? More privacy."

In the end, lust wins. He's a man, he wants her, and who is he to argue when she offers him what he wants albeit on her terms? They both know there's more to it, but the situation is complicated enough as it is. Debating about it when all they want to do right now is be close to each other would be a vicious spiral and wouldn't do any good.

So they go down to the motel, room no. 1 just like the last time. As Norma closes the door behind them, she can tell that Alex likes it here, that the tinge of defeat is forgotten already that having to come here might have felt like in the beginning. Instead, making love in this room has a forbidden touch they both enjoy.

"I've missed you." Alex fumbles around with the buttons of her blouse. She loves how he can be tender one moment and rough the next, love the mixture. Whatever he does, it's always the right thing because he pays attention. He notices what she likes and what not. She never had to say anything; he just knows.

Her blouse falls on the ground. "Leave it," Norma whispers when Alex wants to take off her skirt next.

This time it's her who walks him backwards towards the bed, pushing him down on it. Norma doesn't bother with her skirt or high boots. Sometimes their lovemaking is slow, sometimes it's eager, hungry. This is one of those times. She can't wait to feel him, fumbling with his belt, pulling clothes out of the way as far as required before she straddles him.

They won't last long; she knows as much the moment he is inside her. It feels too good. Alex Romero, _big and tallish_ , as she loves to tease him, is built to satisfy her needs. However, it's the look in his eyes and the way he says her name when his movements start to get erratic and he is about to lose control that always drive her over the edge. Like now. One of his hands drops to her backside, the other grabs her neck as he kisses her, waits for her, until she can't help but break their kiss and gasp. Only then his movements become even more erratic and he allows himself to let go, too. She smiles. He isn't what she would call quiet either.

* * *

Norman is staring out of the window. The motel is dimly lit. There are no guests at this time of the year. Only one room is illuminated even if the curtains are drawn so that you can't look inside. Room No. 1. You would need a peephole to be able to watch what is going on. Norman swallows as he remembers how he pricked the wall, stepped closer and watched his mother and her lover have sex in that room some days ago. It was the final straw that made him snap when they had the fatal dinner the day after. Funny how he is almost calm today in comparison despite the awareness that the exact same things are going on in that motel room right now. It is a chemically induced calm. The medication not only suppresses his hallucinations, it also guarantees a certain state of numbness. He doesn't like it. Then again, he is too numb to care.

 _What happened, Norman?_

He recalls Dr. Edwards' concerned look when he had his appointment with him the day after that dinner. What was he supposed to say? _Oh, you know, I watched my mother and this man, her husband, have sex to be certain that she didn't lie to me when she told me that she liked him and wasn't only sleeping with him to meet an obligation. And what I saw confirmed that and made me… made me feel…_ Norman realizes that he clenches his fists as he remembers what he saw in every vivid detail. _And then I attacked him with an ax because they don't understand that this is just a delusion, a mistake, that she's not meant to be happy with him. Can't. That everything they do only delays the inevitable. And it will be me picking up the pieces, kissing away her tears and holding her as she cries because of another man who disappointed her._

Of course, he didn't say any of it, told Dr. Edwards only a sugarcoated version that was the truth and anything but at the same time, the risk being too high that his therapist would see him as a danger to himself or others and revoke his discharge. Dr. Edwards sensed that something was going on, though, and they eventually agreed to increase the dose of his medication. What else was there to do? His mother wouldn't listen to him. The sheriff wouldn't leave, let alone divorce her. He had to find a way to deal with the situation until he found a solution. Without medication his rage would overwhelm him faster than Alex Romero could say _put that ax down_. Norman is not stupid. If his stay at Pineview taught him one thing, then it's that he has to stay in control of what happens – to himself and to the people around him. He has a long-range-objective and that is getting things back to normal, back to solely him and his mother living together, being together. Just normal.

Right now, there is not much left that feels good or normal. Norman has no idea how much time has passed since his mother and her _husband_ , he stumbles on his words merely thinking that term, went down to the motel. One hour? Two? Maybe more. Either way, it's them together down there and him up here all alone and it breaks him. He has to ramp up his efforts to convince her what is the right thing to do. The time they spend together every day is limited and always over too soon, something he is not used to at all. Life as he knew it is slipping from his grasp and he needs to stop that. When he touches his face, his hand gets wet. He didn't even notice he has been crying the entire time.

* * *

Norma has dozed off, Alex's body heat keeping her warm, his hand drawing lazy circles on her back as her head rests on his chest.

"What if we sleep in Dylan's room?"

"Huh?" She is half-asleep, not really able to process his question.

"Dylan's room. The room he used when he was living here. He doesn't need it anymore and it's at least a little further away from Norman's room. More privacy."

Dozing time over. Norma writhes before she looks at Alex. "The bed in there is too small."

"We could buy a bigger one."

"With a bigger bed in there, nothing else is going to fit in anymore."

"A bed is all we need. We can leave our clothes in the other room. Norma…," he interrupts her in advance when he sees that she is about to come up with another argument why this won't work. "I'm trying, okay?"

She sighs. "I know. I know. It's just… It won't make much a difference for Norman. And we can come down here whenever we want. He will come around and accept our marriage. He just needs more time."

Alex traces Norma's jawline with his fingers. If he had his way, he would never stop touching her. "I don't want anyone prescribing when and where I'm allowed to make love to my wife."

The mother in Norma feels undermined, the woman feels flattered. "Alex… Don't you think I want that, too?" She takes his hand and kisses his palm. Alex has a thing for hands. Well, hers, but still. "This is not forever." She holds his gaze, aware that he is not convinced. He's trying; she has to give him something. "If things don't get better soon, we'll give the other room a try."

"We will?"

"Yes."

"Promise?" Alex pulls Norma closer so that he can kiss her.

"Yes." Her response is muffled by their kiss.

Just as Alex rolls them over, about to start round number two, there's a knock at the door. They both give a jump, thinking the same thing. _Norman_.

"I'll get it." Norma wants to stand up, but Alex holds her back.

"Let me handle it."

"No, no." She is getting agitated. "I'll get the door."

"Norma," Alex's voice is firm although he doesn't yell at her like her other husbands used to do. _Husbands_. God there really is a plural since this is her third marriage. She knows that all Alex wants, all he has ever wanted, is to protect her.

"OK." She lies back again, watching him put his pants and a shirt on, blocking the view of the bed with his body when he opens the door and steps outside.

Norma tries to relax, but curiosity wins. She sneaks to the door and puts her ear against it to overhear the conversation outside. It's too risky to look out of the window. Alex and whoever he is with would be able to see her, if only her outline through the curtains. Norma frowns. There are two voices. She can't make out what they are talking about though. Who would have thought that these motel room doors are soundproof? It's the reason she hears Alex's steps approach the door only last minute and almost has no time left to jump back into bed and pretend she never left when he comes back in. Judging by his face, he seems to know or at least assume what she did, anyway.

"Who was it?" Patience is no option. Norma has to know.

"One of the workers."

Not Norman. She is relieved. Yet, anything out of the ordinary usually means bad news in her experience. "What did he want?"

Alex looks thoughtful. He doesn't want to tell her, for whatever reason. "They found a suitcase. It's dirty and damaged, but there are women's clothing in it and an ID. Audrey Ellis. Any idea who that is and why her suitcase would be in the pit?"

* * *

To be continued


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N:** This chapter picks up right where the last one ended, namely with Alex receiving the news that the suitcase of a woman called Audrey Ellis was found in the pit. As much as I love the writing of this show, I always wondered why Alex never addressed the closeness of Norma and Norman. Well, maybe because he wanted to avoid the kind of falling-out they had in 4x09 (even thinking of it makes me so sad...). However, I think there is no way around that becoming an issue between Alex and Norma, now that they are all living together and he witnesses it first hand (especially considering what he knows about her past). So this chapter is kind of the foundation for things to get more tense. I hope you like it (and don't worry, I love me some angst, but I also love all things Normero).

Thank you so much for your reviews. Unfortunately I can't personally get back to those of you who reviewed as guest, but be assured that each and every review made me very happy.

The usual **disclaimer** applies.

* * *

 _Audrey Ellis._ Emma's mother. Norma's instinct to stay away from that woman as far as possible had been right. And now she's… she's…

"Do you know her?" Alex is watching her; her silence gave her away. In moments like these Norma wishes he wasn't able to read her face like an open book.

"Um… Well, I don't _know_ her, but she stayed at the motel." Those were the days, back then when lying to Alex was as easy for her as lying to anybody else. Not that she wants to turn back time. The level of trust they have is so precious to her. On most days Norma still can't believe Alex stayed after everything she had told him, everything he knows about her and her flawed past. Nothing comes without a price though. And this price is that he deserves the truth. Always, without exception, and no matter how painful or dangerous it might be. It's a new and unsettling concept for someone like Norma who has been living a lie most of her life.

Alex gentle eyes rest on her face. He doesn't push her, doesn't get impatient, just waits for her to tell him whatever it is she has to say. Norma swallows; there is a lump in her throat all of a sudden. He knows her so well; he treats her so well. No man ever loved her the way he does – unselfish and with a passion that goes beyond anything she has ever experienced.

"She's Emma's mother," Norma explains. "She wanted to give me a letter for Emma because her ex-husband wouldn't let her see Emma. I didn't take it, but somehow the letter ended up in Norman's room."

This information changes everything as she suspected. She can see it in his face. Audrey Ellis is not anyone. She is another potentially missing woman with a connection to the motel and the Bates family. By now it's bordering on ridiculous. How many women can disappear or die and be somehow connected to her or Norman? Blair Watson. Annika Johnson. Bradley Martin. It has to end sometime, hasn't it?

Norma shrugs. "That's it. That's all I know. She's no longer staying at the motel. So she must have left."

"Must have?"

"I told her to leave. I didn't want her around after I'd found out who she was. And then she was gone."

"So Norman was the last to see her?" Still not pushing her, still letting her tell him everything on her terms. And yet, despite their mutual trust and her genuine love for him, it is starting to feel like an interrogation, getting on her nerves.

" _I don't know._ Maybe she left the letter on the porch and he found it." She sounds snippy; Norma is aware of it and doesn't like it. It's a reflex, an old habit she can't seem to get rid of whenever she feels attacked. If there is one issue bound to make them argue, then it's Norman.

"So Norman didn't tell you about it," Alex concludes. "Then why did he keep the letter? Why didn't he give it to Emma or…?"

" _You know why,_ " Norma interrupts him, becoming angrier by the minute. "Emma's mother had stayed at the motel shortly before you took Norman to Pineview. He was confused. He probably doesn't even remember what happened or that he had the letter."

"Had? So he doesn't have it anymore?"

That's the problem with having to tell the truth and nothing but the truth. To a cop. It never ends.

Norma sighs, her anger making way for resignation that starts to set in. There's no use in being mad at him. It's his job to ask questions and discover the truth. "Dylan has it. He found it when Norman was at Pineview and is looking for Emma's mother."

"I gotta talk to both of them."

"OK. Yeah, sure. Just let me talk to him first."

"To Dylan?"

"What? No. To Norman."

She sees the _of course, who else_ flit across Alex's face. Norma is aware that this is more than a courtesy. There is no official investigation as yet, but there probably will be one as of tomorrow. So here they are. She is supposed to not hide anything and he is supposed to protect her and her family. Come what may. That's the unspoken deal.

"Alex..." Norma stands up, wrapping the bed linen around her body because it's too cold otherwise; plus this is not a discussion she wants to have standing right in front of him stark naked. "He's not going anywhere. And your relationship with him is already tense. So just let me talk to him first, okay? Please?"

There are other things on her mind right now. Nevertheless Norma can't help but notice that it feels very sexy to lean into him when Alex is dressed and she is basically wearing nothing.

His fingers trace her arms until they come to rest on her hips, pulling her closer. "OK."

Norma knew Alex wouldn't say no, knows he is not able to deny her anything. It's scary on some days and an adrenalin rush on others. Today it was a necessity in their balance of power, her reward for being honest.

* * *

The wind is howling, tearing at the shingles, pressing the pouring rain against the windows. Another one of the many winter storms this season.

Norma is sleeping next to him. It took her a while to drop off. She even stood up more than an hour after they had gone to bed, apparently thinking he was asleep. Alex's instinct told him not to react. He heard her sneak across the hallway to Norman's room, heard her open the door, pause, and then whisper, _Norman, are you awake?_ But she was greeted by silence and came back to bed, slipped under the sheets and snuggled into him.

The finding of the suitcase has rattled both of them. It is the reason why he is still awake at this ungodly hour, and why Norma's sleep has been restless all night. They agreed that she would talk to Norman first thing tomorrow, something she obviously wanted to do tonight already because she wasn't able to sleep otherwise. She is tossing and turning under the bed linens, unresolved issues tormenting her. Norma has nightmares on a regular basis; Alex has never known someone who has so much trouble sleeping aside from himself. And tonight the worry about Norman for sure compounds her anxiety and her bad dreams.

There is thunder outside. Norma stirs, murmuring something he doesn't understand, and groans. It sounds as if she suffers agony and tears at his heart.

"Shhh…" By now Alex knows how to comfort her without waking her up. He puts one arm around Norma, just holds and caresses her. "Everything is gonna be okay." It's what he always says. Alex has no idea if she can hear him on some subconscious level, but it works. Norma calms down and breathes regularly. _You think it's all gonna be okay?_ That's what she asked him when they danced at the winter festival. _Yeah, I do._ And that's what he told her back then and what he will assure her whenever she needs it.

Save that tonight he wonders whether it's a lie.

* * *

She has been too quiet throughout breakfast. After they cleared the table and did the dishes, he addresses it, "What is it, mother?"

Her smile is wistful, as if she knew that he would see something is wrong and has been waiting for him to point it out because that's who they are. They know each other inside out; they notice things.

"Let's sit down, Norman. I have to ask you something."

They sit down on the couch in the living room. The thunderstorm from last night has abated and turned into a steady rain that bathes the world in an impenetrable gray. No weather to go outside. Normally they would watch a movie together. Not today.

The medication has made Norman calmer; there are comparatively rare flashes of anger and none of them have the intensity it would require to make him pick up an ax. Interestingly enough it also has made him more aware of details. Any details. Like the way his mother fiddles around with the hem of her dress right now. He has always been observant, but this is different, like watching the world under a microscope.

She doesn't look at him what gives him the opportunity to study her delicate features. She's so beautiful; he wishes he wouldn't cause her so much pain. If only… He is about to reach out and touch her when he hears her voice.

"Did you ever meet the woman who had checked into the motel shortly before… um… before you went to Pineview?"

Her eyes rest on his face. He could drown in these eyes. She notices that he was about to reach for her, his hand hanging in mid-air, and takes it.

"Norman?" she gently reminds him of her question.

"No, I… What woman?"

"Audrey Ellis. Emma's mother."

"Emma's mother stayed at the motel?"

"Yes. Well, only for two nights, but… yeah."

Norman lets the information sink in, thinks about it, blurry pictures flashing through his mind. He is not able to hold on to a clear picture. Most of his memories of the days previous to Pineview are gone. He was in that horrible, other facility, then he was home, they had a horrible fight, and the sheriff came and took him away from his mother. A wave of anger floods through him. Any mention of that man, any reminder that his mother is married to him, sleeping in the same bed with him, sleeping _with him_ makes him sick. Norman bites the inside of his cheek until he tastes blood and calms down.

"Is everything okay, honey?" Norma slides closer to him, caressing his face.

What was it they were talking about? He needs to concentrate. Ah yes. "I think there was a family. Did I check in a family?"

She smiles at him, obviously happy that he remembers something. "Yes. Yes, you did."

Norman thinks some more about it. "I don't remember a woman. Why?"

Sadness darkens his mother's eyes. "Because the workers found her suitcase in the pit. It doesn't have to mean anything, but it's weird, don't you think? That she would leave without her suitcase?"

"Did something happen to her?"

"We don't know yet."

 _We_.. as in the sheriff, who will probably launch an investigation, and her. An investigation to find a missing woman and the person responsible for her disappearance. The perfect opportunity to get rid of his unbeloved stepson. Another wave of anger hits Norman. Only when his mother gasps, he realizes that he has grasped her hand so tightly that it hurts. "Sorry, mother." He lets go of her hand, but she won't have it, intertwining their fingers.

"It's okay, Norman. You're under a lot of stress."

And she isn't because she has her husband to comfort her. The anger is still there and Norman realizes that he tears up on top of it. He hates it but can't help it. What he needs is to be strong and confident to stand his ground in comparison to Alex Romero. That man is living and breathing testosterone whereas he is a mess. Norman starts to tremble frustrated.

"Norman, stop. Stop!" His mother puts her arms around him in an effort to comfort him. Most of the time it is working; today it doesn't help much. "I'm so sorry that this upsets you, but Alex will need to talk to you about it and I wanted to talk to you first."

"Why would he need to talk to me if I didn't even meet her? He can't do what he wants, suspect who he wants just because he's the sheriff." Only when she leans back, away from him, Norman realizes that he was yelling.

"Because, Norman, you had her letter in your room," Norma's voice is firm now, not as gentle anymore as before when she was trying to calm him and called him honey. "Emma's father didn't want her to see Emma so she wanted me to give Emma a letter from her. I didn't take it. I mean, she's not a reliable woman. She left her sick child and didn't deserve my help. But somehow that letter ended up in your room and we have to find out how that happened."

There it is again. _We_.

"We, we," Norman repeats, unable to hide the contempt in his voice. Not that he would want to hide it. "Stop saying that. As if you were the same person. You and that man. You're not. We are." He doesn't feel her hands against his chest as she tries to hold him back.

"Norman..."

"You think you love him, but you don't. How can you be so blind? He manipulates you, makes you do things you don't want to do." He doesn't realize that he is pushing her down, the weight of his body pressing her in the couch.

"Norman, please..."

"I would never..." Suddenly there is no air left in his lungs to speak. The room tilts as if he is flying. At least that's what it feels like until his body hits the ground. Norman groans with pain. Somewhere in the background he hears the desperate voice of his mother. _Alex, stop._ Of course.

Two black shoes appear in his field of vision, followed by the face of the man he hates most in the world as the sheriff bends down low to talk to him.

"If you ever touch her again, I'll kill you."

* * *

To be continued

 _I re-watched parts of Season Four to find out if Norman or/and Norma are aware of him killing Emma's mother because I want to stick to canon as far as the events previous to 4x9/4x10 are concerned and I think you could argue that both of them at least think it's possible that he didn't kill her (Norman doesn't remember until 4x09 and Norma worries but has no final proof). So that's kind of the premise here, at least at this point of the story._


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N:** Thanks a lot for reading  & reviewing. Reviews make my day. :)

The usual **disclaimer** applies.

* * *

Norman eavesdrops on the voices downstairs.

"You hurt him."

"He was hurting you."

"He would never hurt me."

He smiles. Maybe this is the moment he has been waiting for. Maybe they will eventually break-up. He doesn't remember what happened in detail. The medication prevents him from blacking out; however things get blurry from time to time. He was alone with his mother and then Alex came and attacked him out of the blue. She can't possibly tolerate that.

Norman ran upstairs to his room the moment he managed to get up from the floor. Perhaps he should have stayed, should have insisted that she faced the truth: The sheriff is bad for her.

The voices get quieter; he can't understand what they are saying anymore, their agitated tone telling him, though, that they are still fighting. Good. He lies down on his bed. Everything is going to be okay.

The knock on his door startles him. He must have dozed off.

"Norman?"

His mother enters the room and sits on his bed. A wave of happiness floods through him. She must have come to tell him that she and the sheriff will get divorced. Norman can't hide his excitement and sits up in a sudden move that makes her flinch for some reason. She has no reason to be tense around him. He would never hurt her unlike the man downstairs who is not welcome in their house. Never has been.

Norma's smile is uncertain. She reaches out, running her fingers through his hair. "Norman, we have to talk. Do you remember what happened?"

"He hurt me."

Lines of worry appear on her face. "Did he? Are you hurt somewhere?" Norma touches his chest, his shoulders, as if she was able to do hands-on healing. And maybe she is because he feels better every time she touches him.

"Not really," he relents. He has to be more manly. She needs to know that she can rely on him, that he can make a stand. "But it was mean of him to attack me. That's not something a good man does."

Her facial expression changes. Sympathy. She pets his chest. "Norman… Do you know what happened before? Before he... _attacked_ you?"

Why did she hesitate to use this term? It was an attack, no matter whether he remembers what happened before or not. For sure nothing happened that could have justified Romero's behavior. "We were downstairs together. You know that the medication makes me dizzy, but we probably talked or watched a movie like we always do."

The look in her eyes gets wistful as she clearly remembers fond memories. Then Norma straightens herself and takes his hand. "Yes, we talked. And then, um, you got upset. That's why Alex pulled you away from me."

Pulled him away from her? Norman doesn't remember that, but it's fitting, actually. Symbolic. "He pulled me away from you? Well, doesn't that tell you everything about him you need to know? He doesn't want us to be together. He is jealous of the cord between us. The sheriff is not a good man. You have to leave him." Norman is talking himself into a rage.

"Stop. Norman, stop it!" Only now he realizes that while Norma is still holding his hand, she has raised her other hand in an unambiguous gesture. _Calm down._ "That's not what happened. We were talking about Emma's mother and you got very upset."

He remembers now. Another missing woman for whose disappearance the sheriff wants to hold him accountable. The contempt is overwhelming. He hates the sheriff. So why does his mother stick by this man? Norman pulls his hand away. "So is that how it's going to be from now on? Whenever a woman goes missing, the sheriff will suspect me until he finds a way to lock me away at Pineview?"

"That's not..."

"Don't patronize me, mother. He has bent you to his will. I don't even want to think about how he did it. Is it that good, sleeping with him, that you are willing to let him take me away from you again?"

Norma tears up and looks over her shoulder at the door. "Shhh, calm down," she tries to soothe him.

Norman trembles with rage even though the medicine chastens the peak of his anger. "I don't want to calm down. And I don't want him in our house anymore. This has been going on long enough."

She is crying now, touching his face with both of her hands, fixating her gaze on him. "All I want is the three of us to be together. No one wants to hurt you, Norman. And no one will take you away from me. I would never allow it. You know that. Please, Norman. Can't you at least try?"

He knows all her tricks. The anger, the tears, the silent treatment. This is different though. An uneasy feeling starts to sink in. The medication has its ups and downs. Moments of clarity are followed by blurry phases. Dr. Edwards told him that it would be like this, that he has to be patient until the full effect of the medication will have set in completely in a couple of weeks. Moreover, though, Dr. Edwards warned him that things might get worse before they can get better and he wasn't only referring to the effect of the medication but to painful insights the newly acquired clarity might force upon him. Norman can tell one of those insights is about to happen albeit he can't tell what exactly it is by now save that it terrifies him. Because he suddenly knows without a doubt that his mother is not trying to manipulate him into believing something; she is trying to make him see the truth. A truth that seems to cause her pain.

"Don't cry, mother. I'm sorry. It's all gonna be good, I promise. I'll do whatever it takes." He doesn't even know what he apologizes for. All he knows is that he doesn't want to see her hurting. Norman takes her in his arms and Norma clings to him as if her life depended on it. Maybe it does, he realizes. Neither of them can be happy if the other is hurt or sad. She can't be happy if he doesn't let her. The resentment is still there. He dislikes the sheriff, hates him even and can't imagine how this is supposed to work since each and every man in her life never did her any good, but he also wants to make her feel better.

Norma smiles at him relieved, no longer crying. "Thank you, Norman. _Thank you._ " She kisses him on the corner of his mouth as she so often does, and as always, it leaves him yearning for more. "I'm going down to talk to Alex, okay? I'll be back in a moment. He just came by to pick up some stuff. That's why he was here so early."

"Okay." Norman doesn't want to let her go. Their embrace, their closeness, the kiss, it feels like old times, something he hasn't felt for too long. His hands linger on her arms, unintentionally pushing the hem of her sleeve up in the process, when he sees it. A bruise around her wrist. Nasty and fresh. As if someone held her down forcefully. Something in his chest explodes. "Did he...?" He almost chokes on his own words. "Did _he_ do this? Did he hurt you?"

Norma pulls her sleeve down, covering the bruise up. "It's nothing. I bumped against the dresser." Her smile is fake, sad.

"Don't lie to me, mother. I'm not stupid. You don't get a bruise like that from bumping against a dresser." Why does she feel the need to lie to him when it's so obvious that the sheriff abused her? Everything he feared has come true.

She stands up, backing away from him. "Norman. You said you'd try, so let's try, okay? It's enough for today. Take a rest."

But he won't allow it. "You don't have to cover up for him, mother. He's bad. He hurt you." His voice is too loud, too angry. Norman hears hurried steps on the stairs. Romero is coming up.

"No, he did not." Her tears are back.

The door opens and Romero practically sprints into the room. "Everything OK in here?" He looks at Norma first to check on her, then focuses his attention on Norman, pins him down with his gaze. There is nothing even remotely gentle in the way he stares at him.

"Yeah, sure, everything is okay," Norma is quick to assure him. She sniffs and wipes her tears away.

"No, it isn't." Norman stands up, watching the weird dance in front of him unfold as the sheriff is attempting to position himself between him and his mother, for some strange reason seeming to believe that he has to protect her from him, and she is trying to hold him back.

"Let's go downstairs." Norma tries to push Romero out of the room. "We'll talk later, Norman."

"Don't go, mother. He hurt you." Norman ignores the threatening glances the sheriff darts at him. That man might outmuscle him, but he won't be intimidated by his posture or looks.

"Lie down, Norman. I'll be back in a moment." It's ridiculous, really, how his mother won't relent, how she insists on pretending that nothing bad happened. Norma twists and turns between the two men, a living barrier. "Let's go," she whispers, taking Romero's hand. They are about to leave; he has to stop her.

"Mother..." Norman reaches out and grabs her wrist so quickly that even the sheriff can't stop him from doing so. Only when she flinches, he realizes that he has grabbed her right where the bruise is. And there it is, the truth he has been dreading and that has been sneaking up on him from behind. His hands are small-boned, the elegant hands of a poet or philosopher as his mother uses to say admiringly. Quite different than the sheriff's rough, big ones. Norman notices these things because he hates the imagination that Romero touches his mother with these hands. Save that her bruise matches the exact shape of his hand. Norman lets go of her with a gasp as if he burned himself.

"You didn't know what you were doing." Norma's voice comes from somewhere far away. The world stands still, even the sheriff doesn't move, just watches him.

It's too much. Norman has pushed himself past them out of the room and is running down the stairs before he realizes what he is doing. It wasn't the sheriff. It was him who hurt his mother.

"Norman! Come back, Norman!" he hears her call for him, felt her hands brush him as she tried to hold him back, but he was too fast.

He is dangerous. He has to get away. From her, from himself, from everything

* * *

Norman keeps on running until there is no air left in his lungs. Only when he stops and the pounding of his heart abates, he hears something behind him. The sheriff. Of course. He must have run after him. And the son of a bitch is not even out of breath.

"Leave me alone," he is too exhausted to yell.

"I can't. You know that. You don't want your mother to worry about you even more."

He is right and it infuriates Norman, " _Go away._ I don't want you here. We don't need you. None of this would have happened if you hadn't married her, hadn't moved in."

"But I did. Come on. Let's go back to the house, Norman."

A drizzle has set in; the humid air presses the fog down below the treetops and creates a ghostly atmosphere. They are halfway between the motel and White Pine Bay, only woods surrounding them. For a brief moment Norman wishes he had brought the ax and could get rid of the sheriff here and now, bury him in the woods where no one would ever find him, and return home to his mother as if nothing happened. It's impossible, of course, especially considering what he just found out about himself. He has no idea how to deal with it. The urge is over as soon as the thought enters his mind, anyway, his mood fickle. Instead Norman remembers the day he went into the woods with a gun to shoot himself and wishes his mother would have let him. All he does is cause her pain. He doesn't know how to fix himself. Right now he doesn't even know whether he wants to get better or not. For what reason? It's not as if she was waiting for him; it's not the two of them anymore. Romero will be around for good. That's not how it was supposed to be.

"You ruined everything."

The drizzle has turned into heavy rain. They left the house in a hurry; neither of them is wearing a jacket although it's much too cold to be outside without one. Romero's wet shirt sticks close to his chest, accentuating his muscles. Another unwelcome reminder that this man outdoes him when it comes to being masculine. No wonder he is the one allowed to hold her, touch her, make love to her whereas he...

"Norman..." The sheriff reaches out to grab his arm.

"Don't touch me." Norman stumbles backwards, away from Romero. "And stop touching her." He didn't mean to say it, but he is on edge, his imagination relentlessly providing him with vivid pictures of his mother and this man together. All he wants to do is make Romero disappear. Literally. But he doesn't know how. He tried smugness and blackmail at his office and the sheriff shrugged it off. He tried honesty and threats at their dinner and Romero moved back in. Norman is desperate, doesn't know what to do anymore, a fresh wave of anger flooding through him. Not intense enough for a violent outbreak, sufficient enough, though, to raise his voice, "You have no idea what you have gotten yourself into. No one knows my mother like I do. You can't give her what she needs."

"But you can?"

"I told you, my mother and I… we are _close_ , closer than she can ever be with anyone else. And that will never change."

"It already changed. She married me. Look, Norman..." Romero raises his hands as if to tone down his harsh words. "I know it's difficult for you because you two have been extremely close all your life. I'm not going to take her away from you, but I also won't let you drive us apart. I love her and I'm not going to leave her. Ever. You've got to understand that."

 _Love_. It's ludicrous. How can this man speak of love for his mother when there is only one person in the world able to love her the way she deserves it?

"Your love can't compete with mine," Norman spits.

Romero's facial expression is a mixture of disapproval and pity. He shakes his head. "Well, there is for sure a difference between the love of a son for his mother and the love of a husband for his wife. Maybe you don't understand that yet, but..."

"I understand very well," Norman interrupts him. He is back to being smug, trembling with contempt for this man and the absurd situation he has forced him in. "And who says there has to be a difference?" Again, he probably shouldn't have said that, but the sheriff leaves him no choice and his anger slowly but surely gains the upper hand. Besides, there is nothing to it that he loves his mother the way he does. Norman remembers the day he told her that he was attracted to her. He was so ashamed and afraid, but she comforted him, assured him that it was natural, that people had the weirdest impulses. It allowed him to feel normal despite his wanton fantasies. Who defines what _normal_ means, anyway?

Only now, Norman realizes that Romero is studying him carefully. "What do you mean?" he says slowly. Then, disgusted, "She's… Norman, she's your _mother_."

"Yes, she's my mother. But she's also the first thing on my mind when I wake up in the morning and the last thing before I fall asleep. She is beautiful and flawed and special and she's… she's _mine_. YOU CAN'T HAVE HER." Norman is panting. He hates that man so much. _Leave_ , he thinks. _Leave already._

Romero holds his gaze, his voice steady, "You are her son, not her lover."

Norman purses his lips, clenching and unclenching his fists. He can't lose this argument like he lost the previous ones. Won't. Whatever it takes. "How do you know?"

He doesn't want to cause his mother pain, but the look on Romero's face is worth it. _Doubt_. What none of his earlier attempts achieved, his words just did. Romero is uncertain what is going on. At least to some extent.

The sheriff grabs his arm with more force than necessary. This time Norman doesn't back off. So when Romero pushes him forward, he trots along. Neither of them talks anymore, but Norman's thoughts are singing. _Take that, asshole. You'll be packing your bags soon._

* * *

To be continued

 _No Normero in this chapter, I know, and I'm sorry if you were waiting for it. But the characters are so complex that I want to pay proper attention to all of them and their interaction. There will definitely be more Norma/Alex in the next chapter though. They have to talk about Norman's insinuation, after all. And I haven't forgotten about the suitcase and the pit. This will come up again as the story proceeds, too._


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N:** Thank you for your support, no matter whether you reviewed, favorited, followed, or PM'ed me. I'm always interested in constructive feedback and what readers think about the stories I'm writing. Therefore I appreciate it very much! Here's the next installment. The chapter kept getting longer and longer, but I didn't want to split it because it kind of is a turning point in the story that sounds the bell for phase two (yeah, I'm cryptic, I know, and it's deliberate since I don't want to spoil you). Parts of the chapter are a strong T or even mild M rating due to content. So please only read it if it's appropriate for your age.

The usual **disclaimer** applies.

* * *

The moment she hears the front door, Norma jumps up and hurries into the hallway.

Alex and Norman enter in an awkward silence, the tension between them palpable. Norman immediately trots upstairs, heading for the reclusiveness of his room, his movements weary as if they've come back from a battlefield.

"We still have to talk about the letter from Emma's mother you had in your room," Romero says.

It makes Norma wonder why they didn't talk already. Something must have happened, something that explains the silence between them that is even more ominous than usual.

Norman stops halfway and turns around. "I don't remember. I don't know if I ever met her."

It neither dissipates the doubts regarding the woman's disappearance nor is it an answer to the question how the letter got in his room. However, it's the truth, Norma can tell and probably Romero, too, since the cop in him has a good instinct for things like that. Alex nods curtly, acknowledging her assumption. Norman's gaze flickers over to Norma but as soon as she looks at him, he breaks eye contact. Not before she saw the pain in his eyes though. He turns away and continues his way upstairs.

"Norman..." Norma makes a step forward to follow her son but stops when the door of his room closes, suggesting that he rather be left alone. She looks at Romero. "Alex… What happened?" He has the same expression in his eyes as Norman. Pain. And like Norman he breaks eye contact. Why is there always darkness surrounding all of them like a sinister, invisible cloud? "What? Alex! You're scaring me. What happened?"

"Let's talk later, okay? I have to get back to work. I'm not supposed to be on a break right now and have things to do."

"Yeah, I'm sure you have _things to do_." If her sarcastic tone hadn't got the message across already, then the quotation marks her fingers imitate in the air would have. "I just can't imagine what could be more important than me or my son. We are your family."

They are not a family. On paper, maybe. Even if Norma's sons are of legal age, he formally is their step-father. In real life things are much more complicated. As has been proven in spades today.

"You're right. We need to talk. But not now."

It's not Romero's way to avoid a fight, but this… what Norman said, it unsettles him. A couple of days ago he would have shrugged it off as ramblings of a confused young man. After Norma's confession regarding what happened between her and her brother, some otherwise scattered pieces awfully feel like a puzzle. Their closeness. Norma's inability to think straight when it comes to her youngest son that goes way beyond any ordinary motherly concern. Let alone Norman's accusations and love confessions at the dinner table. When Romero moved out temporarily, he did it because he believed a troubled son needed time to get used to a new father figure and not because a scorned ex-lover needed time to come to terms with the fact that he had been replaced. And the moment he will ask Norma about it, it will become real. Although she might twist and turn first, she will tell him the truth eventually. So what if this is the one truth he won't be able to handle?

" _Not now?_ " Norma's words interrupt his train of thought. "Something clearly bothers you and Norman as well. Something that happened between you two. This is not how it works. You don't get to come home like that and not tell me what is going on." Her anger is like a third person in the room, attacking him.

Alex sighs. Sometimes there is no way around the pain, sometimes you have to go right through the middle. His work schedule is already messed up, a few more minutes make no difference. "OK." He grabs Norma's elbow and gently pulls her into the living room so that Norman hopefully won't be able to overhear them.

Romero has no idea how to approach the subject the right way. Not that there is a right way to address something like that at all. Incest is not genetically determined, but behavioral patterns are passed on. Norma and her brother had an incestuous relationship and even if she knows that it was wrong and tried to end it, Norma has no sense of boundaries. That's why she raised her youngest son the way she did. Something Norman easily could have misinterpreted and eventually acted upon it.

"The night you called me. The night I took Norman to Pineview. Did Norman… did he try to rape you or sexually abuse you?" It was the first thing that went through Romero's mind when he heard Norman's suggestion, that it might be the delusional aberration of something horrible that happened between them. He will never forget how Norma's voices sounded when she left him a message that night. She feared for her life, was afraid of her own son.

To say that Norma is surprised at his question would be an understatement. She is outraged, a missile about to go off. " _What? Norman?_ Trying to _rape_ me? No! Are you out of your mind? What are you talking about? I can't believe you're asking me that."

It's his role to keep calm whenever Norma gets carried away. "Norman implied he is your lover and I thought maybe there is a connection between his misinterpretation of reality and what happened that night."

Norma's gaze jumps back and forth between the stairs that lead up to Norman's room and Alex's face. She is appalled but not in a way any other mother would be. Then she visibly pulls herself together. "What do you mean _implied_?"

"When I said that the love of a husband is different from the love of a son, he challenged that."

"Well, you must have misunderstood." This is the old Norma Alex has witnessed one time too many. Look in the other direction and whatever threatens you is no longer there.

Romero shakes his head. "He didn't say it explicitly, but he suggested it clearly enough."

Norma sways as if she's about to collapse, twining her arms around herself in an effort to seek solace. "You know how Norman is. He says things when he's angry. He's jealous and wanted to hurt you."

"Yes, he's jealous. Much more jealous than any normal son should be when his mother remarries."

There it is. That word. _Normal_. "Don't say that," she hisses. "Stop inferring that Norman is not normal. That my relationship to him is not normal. We love each other. That's how it's supposed to be. Mother and son are supposed to love each other."

"Not like that."

"Like _what_? You only read something between the lines and become obsessed by it."

"I know what I heard, Norma. It might have been between the lines, but you and I both heard what Norman said at the dinner table and it adds up to the same conclusion. I believe you when you tell me that Norman didn't do anything, but there is something going on with him."

"He's in therapy at Pineview." Norma has realized she can't win this fight by attacking Alex or denying the obvious. So she gets defensive. Whenever they argue about Norman, it feels as if her shield is getting more and more impenetrable. Albeit they have come so far trust-wise in every way, Norma just won't open up when it comes to Norman. Romero hates to feel like an outsider, the close, _too close_ relationship between mother and son a connection no one but the two of them has access to. Norman is not the only one who's jealous.

"And I hope he gets better," Alex tries to propitiate Norma. Fighting won't get them anywhere.

He should have known, though, that Norma ignores the offer of an olive branch when she's on a roll. "Talk is cheap."

"That's not fair." But she has a point. He doesn't really care about Norman, merely hopes their circumstances will get better when Norman will get better, _if_ he will get better.

"Maybe it isn't. What's fair in life, after all?" Norma shrugs, obviously wanting to end the discussion. From her point of view everything has been said although nothing has been clarified.

"Norma… We still have to decide how to handle the fact that he thinks something like that."

She sighs exasperated. "Will you drop it?" She can tell from the look on Alex's face, however, that he won't and a cornered Norma will fight and claw her way out of any trap regardless how dirty it gets. "You of all people should know how difficult it is to have a relative in therapy. That it takes time. Did you expect your mother to get better within a couple of weeks?" The words came out too fast before she could think twice. Just as Norman is her Achilles heel, Alex's mother is his. "Alex... I'm sorry." She didn't want to hurt him, but the damage is done.

"We'll talk tonight." Romero turns around and walks out, leaving Norma alone in the middle of the living room, panting for breath.

She longs for his touch, his kiss. He never leaves without that. Somehow all her efforts to make the three of them work as a family only seem to drive them farther apart.

* * *

Romero comes home late. It's the first time during their marriage that he missed dinner. He didn't do it on purpose to hurt Norma; a new case had come up that required the extra hours, even more so considering he had spent much more time at home in between than he had planned. Alex called Norma to tell her that he would be late, aware that she probably wouldn't believe him after what had happened. She has abandonment issues after all. He walks up the stairs to this house that someone else might call creepy, especially in the dark, but that he considers home, a place that makes him feel welcome for the simple reason that she lives there. The dim light in Norma's bedroom, their bedroom, tells him that she's still awake, waiting for him.

He finds her sitting at her vanity, combing her hair. Norma is ready for bed, wearing one of her blue robes that accentuate the color of her eyes. Whenever he is mad at her, one look into these eyes is enough to make him realize that he is and always will be putty in her hands, no matter how fierce their fights get. She is his fate.

"You dinner is in the fridge," she says when she sees him, her glance meeting his in the mirror.

"I'm not hungry. I had a late lunch at the office. Norma, there really was a case. I didn't skip dinner because of our argument."

She shrugs, but it is obvious that she doesn't believe him. He can see faint traces of red around her eyes. She cried.

"How's Norman?"

At the mention of her son's name Norma cuts him a defensive look, prepared to continue their fight but relaxes when she detects actual concern in his face. It earns him a timid smile before sadness darkens her eyes. "He wouldn't talk to me, wouldn't open his door. He is obviously very upset about what happened."

Romero knows by now that every falling-out between Norma and her son has dramatic consequences. She is not able to function when her relationship with Norman is stricken. Something he was aware of when he married her even though he underestimated the extent of it.

She looks down and he knows she is about to tell him something. It's as if the molecules in the air between them are shifting. In moments like these it feels as if something pulls at his soul, drawing them together. Alex wonders if Norma feels the same. For him. For Norman. Things are so complicated.

Norma takes a deep breath and puts the brush down. "Norman and I have always been close, probably too close." Romero's stomach turns. Her words sound awfully similar to how she started her confession about Caleb. "Sam became increasingly violent and we only had each other since I had already driven Dylan away from me at that time. And look at me now." Her eyes flicker to his face only to look down again, avoiding his reaction. "I screwed things up with Dylan. And I screwed things up with Norman. I'm a bad mother."

It pains Alex to see her like that. Fragile and broken. "Norma..." He takes a step forward, but she raises her hand to stop him.

"A while ago Norman told me that he is attracted to me. Sexually." The knot in Romero's stomach tightens. "I told him that it was something every teenage boy goes through. Something else I handled wrong. I didn't know what else to say." She tears up. "But he never came on to me. _Ever_. Whereas I..." Norma begins to cry. "That night, the night you took him to Pineview, Norman was so confused and upset. He didn't know what he was doing and I was… I was afraid of him and used the fact that he is attracted to me to calm him." The events of that night still haunt her. Would she have kissed him? How far would she have gone to soothe him? She will never know, doesn't want to. "I mean, I didn't actually _do_ anything, but maybe this gave his subconsciousness the wrong idea even if he doesn't remember it." Norma knows that Norman doesn't recall any details of that night, just that they fought and things were tense. "Oh God, what have I done?" She buries her face in her hands.

Romero has seen Norma cry before several times. Considering what they've been through, you could call it inevitable. But he has never seen her cry like this. He sits down next to her, pulling her hands away from her face.

"Don't look at me." She twists and turns under his touch. "I screw up everything."

"Norma, stop. It wasn't your fault." Alex cringes inwardly at the thought of what she did, believed she had to do. It is one of Norma's character traits he admires that she will do anything to get out of a standoff, always moving forward, whatever it takes. They are very much alike when it comes to that. He covers her face with kisses until she let's him pull her into his arms, allowing him to hold her.

Norma's hot breath caresses his neck as her sobs subside, reminding Romero of a situation not that long ago, albeit it feels like a lifetime, when she came to his house and they argued about Bob Paris. He held her in a similar way back then. It's her lips against his neck now, the bench in front of her vanity much too small to let things take their course there. Norma is a passionate woman when it comes to arguments as well as when it comes to reconciliation. Every fight needs an outlet for the built-up tension and hers often is sex. Not that he minds.

Alex scoops Norma up and carries her to the bed. It seems to be such an outdated thing to do, carrying a woman, something you see in old movies. And yet, it suits what they are to each other in a perfect way. She doesn't stop kissing him, his neck, his face, every kiss telling him how much she needs him, needs this. Whenever he fears a burden will drown her, she proves that she is stronger than he thought. And if he can help her get through it, he considers his job done. As sheriff and her husband.

"Make love to me," Norma whispers.

He wonders whether he misheard. They don't make love in here anymore ever since Norman moved back in. She doesn't seem to mind tonight, though, and this is something that has been bothering Alex for far too long. Not that he wants Norman to overhear them having sex, but this is their house and their bedroom and this is his wife and they should be allowed to do in here whatever they want whenever they want to and not have to go down to the motel.

Norma watches him as he deposits his gun and takes off jacket, shirt and shoes before lying down beside her on the bed. Her expression is so trusting and loving; it feels surreal. There was a time when Romero wondered whether she would ever let him come close or forever push him away and here they are, together, married even. Most of Alex's life living meant no more than surviving. A good night's sleep after a half bottle of Scotch was as close to happiness as he thought he would ever get. Whenever he wakes up at night now, he reaches out to touch Norma to convince himself that she is actually there, that this is not a dream.

"I love you." Romero usually is not the kind of man to mumble love confessions in the middle of sex, but with Norma everything is different. He has told her more often that he loves her during the few weeks they have been married than anyone else in his whole life.

She smiles at him wistfully. "I always wonder how long it will last." That's what experience has taught her. Everyone leaves or disappoints her sooner or later.

Alex takes her left hand and touches the wedding ring. "That's how long it will last," he says and what he means is _forever_ ; she knows that.

Norma grabs the back of his neck and kisses him. It's not a soft, sweet kiss. It's rough and demanding. When one of her hands fumbles around with his belt, Alex knows that she wants to skip any further foreplay. That was not what he had in mind.

"Let me," he mumbles, his voice thick with arousal as he unties her robe and pushes her night gown up, covering her abdomen and thighs with kisses. He is eager to smell her, taste her, but she pulls him up so that he ends up lying on top of her.

"No," she breathes. "I need to feel you."

He takes it slow although he knows Norma wants it faster, harder, but it would be over too soon and he wants it to last. Every moment is so precious. If Alex has learned one thing in life, then it is this. As Norma's hips impatiently thrust against his in an effort to set a quicker pace he rests on one arm and puts one hand on her hip to hold her down. "Shhh, it's all gonna be good. I'm here."

Norma opens her eyes, a sea of pain and blue, and he gets lost in them. Alex can tell that she tries to be quiet, the awareness of who is in the other room always present despite their passion, but his slow approach pays off. She is so desperate for release, they both are, that she can't suppress moans of pleasure and he couldn't care less. This is his house and his wife and screw everyone who tries to get in his way.

* * *

Norman doesn't know how long he has been lying on his bed, staring at the ceiling. He laid down as soon as they were back. It was broad daylight then and is dark now. Aside from breakfast he hasn't eaten anything, ignored his mother's knocks on his door. He doesn't know whether Romero told her what he said to him, presumes he did. How was he supposed to face her when he could barely look at her when they returned?

Every time there is a flare of hope, things get worse. He was getting better at Pineview, the therapy sessions with Dr. Edwards are actually helping him, and yet, everything is going downhill. He hurt his mother physically even if he didn't do it on purpose, wasn't even aware that he was doing it at the time. His suggestive provocation regarding the nature of the relationship between him and his mother was deliberate though, words that had the intent to hurt and cast doubt. Norman doesn't move, but his thoughts are racing. None of this should have happened. This is not the kind of man he wants to be.

Him and his mother. What they are or are not to each other. That's what things boil down to. Always have. Dr. Edwards told him that he sometimes turns into his mother during a blackout. Norman still can't wrap his head around what that means, let alone what that knowledge makes him feel. All he knows is that this is not normal, _he_ is not normal. Perhaps he should say goodbye to the idea that he ever will be.

He hears the sheriff come home and head straight to the bedroom. They did something to the vent between their rooms so that he can't overhear them talking anymore. Or maybe Romero did it without his mother's knowledge, who knows. Either way, all he hears are mumbled voices, words he can't make out until the talking stops eventually.

Norman assumes they will go to bed and sleep. It's late, after all. During the first nights they slept wall to wall he was listening for traitorous sounds, any indication they were having sex, but stopped when he realized that they were using the motel for that. Something is different today though. The silence is not… silent. There is a quick rustle every now and then, different noises than the ones he has gotten used to, as difficult as that has been already. And then he hears it, unmistakably. A moan. It's her. Norman heard that sound before down at the motel when he was watching them through the peephole. A sound that pierced him to the heart and flustered him. However, he was prepared for it then whereas it feels like a violation of his privacy right now, as if someone kneed him in the groin. He clenches his fist and presses it against his mouth to suppress a frustrated scream. Only when he tastes blood, Norman realizes that he bit himself in the process.

It was different, watching them through the peephole. He controlled the situation, the bed had a certain distance from the wall where he was standing. It wasn't like this. If the wall between their beds wasn't there, he could actually reach out and touch her. The idea does something to him as the moans out of the adjoining room get louder although he can tell that she tries to suppress them. Norman reaches out and touches the wall above his head with one hand. He knows what he will do next. The point of no return. His mother told him that the ability to make choices distinguishes humans from animals. But what if there is no choice anymore? What if the impulse is too overwhelming?

Norman closes his eyes as he gives in to desire. Why did he come home? How could he ever believe that she would perceive her mistake and get a divorce? Whatever he did, whatever he said to prevent it, his mother made her choice and no matter how much he loves her, he is in the way. He will make a phone call first thing the next morning. This is goodbye.

* * *

To be continued

 _Don't let the last sentence fool you, there still will be tension between all of them. Nevertheless, there are some upcoming twists._


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N** at the end of the chapter.

The usual **disclaimer** applies.

* * *

"Hey, Dylan."

"Hey, Norma."

Neither of them bothers to exchange courtesies. They've never done that, their relationship always tense one way or the other. Besides, they both know what's coming next. She didn't call to ask about him or Emma.

"How's Norman?"

Dylan sighs. It's been almost a week since Norman decided to live with them. Norma keeps calling every day and Norman keeps refusing to talk to her. "He's fine, Norma. You don't need to worry."

"Is he seeing a doctor? Taking his medication?"

"Yes, Norma. Nothing has changed since yesterday." Dylan can't help but become impatient, their talk reopening old wounds. Even if they get along quite well these days, Norma never has shown such an extent of concern for him and never will. Albeit he has no illusions about it, it still hurts sometimes.

"I'm just... I feel so helpless, Dylan. I want him to get better. I think he made progress at Pineview and now, especially with a new doctor, I'm afraid he will get worse again."

Seattle is too far away from Pineview; Norman had to be transferred to another therapist. Dr. Edwards inquired as to the reasons behind Norman's decision. Obviously Norman hadn't told him and Norma didn't tell him anything either. What was she supposed to say? _My son is attracted to me, threatened my husband with an ax and wants us to get a divorce because he is jealous?_ Some things are too painful, too embarrassing to admit to a stranger, as much as she truly hopes Norman will get better. The worst is, though, that she didn't even have the chance to talk to Norman before he left. He called Dylan and settled everything with him, presenting her with a fait accompli at breakfast.

 _Are you leaving because of what happened between you and Alex? Because of what you said to him?_

Norma saw the hurt and shame in Norman's eyes before he hid it well behind a stoic calm.

 _I don't know what you're talking about. I just thought it would be nice to spend some time with Dylan and Emma._

And that was that.

"Just give Norman some time and space," Dylan's voice cuts through Norma's memories.

When has he become the reasonable one? The one soothing her? Norma feels a sudden surge of love for her firstborn. They've come such a long way. "It's great that you and Emma are taking care of Norman. Thank you so much, Dylan." She sniffles. "But it's Christmas in three days. We've never been apart at Christmas and now he won't even talk to me." Dylan and Norma spent many Christmas Eves apart. That never seemed to bother her. However, Dylan saves his breath. Norma doesn't say these things to hurt him. Things just are as they are.

"Try to sit tight, Norma. So what? Norman spends one Christmas with Emma, her dad, and me. You're not alone. You spend Christmas with your husband. Consider it an extended honeymoon."

That makes her smile, "Yeah, you're right, sure."

Norma talks some more to Dylan on the phone, mainly because she doesn't want to end the call. Even if Norman won't talk to her, she feels some kind of connection with him as long as she is talking to Dylan, as pathetic as it might be. When Dylan eventually has to go and they end the call, the silence in the house creeps up on her, making her shudder.

"Any news about Norman?"

Norma startles; she didn't hear Alex come in, thought he was still taking a shower. Is it really still before 8 AM? No wonder Dylan was even more annoyed than usual; she must have caught him getting ready for work. This is going to be another endless day. What is she supposed to do? Alex has to go to work. It's winter, no one is staying at the motel. It has always been Norman and her and now he is gone. Norma takes a deep breath to regain her composure and fakes a smile although she is aware he can tell the difference.

"No. I didn't call about Norman. I just needed to discuss something with Dylan."

Alex steps closer to Norma, placing two fingers under her chin to make her look at him. "You don't have to pretend. I know you miss him."

She sighs. She also missed Norman when he was at Pineview, but that was different. It was temporary, a necessary step so that he could get better, whereas this… it feels final. The thought makes her choke. Could their invisible cord really be gone for good? Norma tears up.

"Don't cry." Alex bends down to catch a single tear on her cheek with his lips. Norma still can't believe that their marriage of convenience has turned into a real marriage, that he loves her the way he does. "What do you say? Shall I buy some fruit trees on my way home? We could clear out the basement and start planting them," he tries to cheer her up.

As much as Norma wanted to do that some time ago, she does not have the energy for it anymore. She should be happy and she is, save that Norman's decision to deliberately cut their bond hurts like hell, hurts more with every passing day they are separated.

"That's sweet of you, Alex, but I don't think I can do that at the moment," she gently refuses his offer. "I just wish things were different, that Norman hadn't left without talking to me, that he would talk to me now. It's so frustrating that I can't _do_ anything."

"It's okay. There's no rush. We can do it whenever you want. And just give Norman more time. He will come around." Alex kisses her fleetingly. "See you tonight."

Norma snuggles her cheek into the palm of his hand. She wishes he could stay, hates being alone. It should get easier, but it doesn't. She should be able to handle it, but she isn't. After Alex left, Norma loses track of time, staring out of the window although there is nothing to see.

* * *

Norman is staring out of the window, wondering what his mother is doing right now. It has to be her guilt and not honest concern that makes her call every day. Aside from that, she probably does not spare a thought about how difficult it is for him not to talk to her and enjoys married life instead. The idea feels like a kick in the gut. Like every day he wonders whether he should have talked to her. Maybe he is wrong, maybe she misses him just as much as he misses her. Then again, he wouldn't know what to say. The truth is too ugly, too painfully embarrassing to face it. What he said to Romero, what he had done the night before he left. There is no going back, not after that.

He hoped that he would get used to it, to being alone. No, he has to correct that thought, not _being alone_ since there are Dylan and Emma, but _being without her_. Norman hoped that his shame and anger would make it easier to sever the connection to his mother. By now he has realized, though, that any effort will be in vain. There is no getting used to it. If anything, the pain of separation is starting to get unbearable.

The more the medication makes him live in the here and now, suppressing his hallucinations and blackouts, the more it makes him question if it is worth it. What's the endgame? Sitting at the dinner table with Emma and Dylan, listening to their everyday stories? Aside from the fact that he can't expect them to take care of _poor, sick Norman_ forever, this is not what he wants. And the moment he tries to imagine a forth person in that scenario, a girlfriend, something he should want, something that is _normal_ , he can't picture it. Not at all. Because it is _not_ what he wants. There is only one person he wants next to him at a dinner table and she's not here.

According to his doctor, the full effect of the medication has set in. It's not going to get better, meaning the way he misses his mother now is the way he will miss her forever. This is what eternal hell must feel like. Of course, there is always therapy. He has to be patient. That's what his new therapist says. A nice woman although he'd prefer Dr. Edwards if he had the choice. Deep down, Norman knows, though, that he won't get better. Not in the way they assume he might. Some things simply never change; they are not supposed to.

Norman stands up and walks into the bathroom, eying his reflection in the mirror. He knows what he has to do. It is the only way to be with her without actually being with her. He opens the cabinet and takes the small box out of it that contains his pills. One in the morning, two before he goes to sleep, and one at noon if he's having a bad day. His hand hovers over the toilet, about to empty the box in it. Then he realizes that this would be tactically unwise. In case they will check on him, they have to believe that he is still taking his medication as prescribed. Norman takes one pill out of the box and drops it into the toilet. He smiles. His day has suddenly gotten so much better. _We will be together again, mother. Soon._

* * *

Romero has a hard time concentrating on what his deputy is telling him. There has been a hit and run. A car left the road and crashed into a tree, but no one was seriously injured. Sometimes Alex misses the good old times when each and every income in White Pine Bay was drug related and he had to deal with the real bad guys. Guys that deserved to have their nose broken on a bar counter, to get burned or shot, their bodies displayed as a deterrent. On the other hand, ever since Norman came back from Pineview, there is enough family drama going on in his life and he kind of likes it. Not the drama but the family part. He, Alex Romero, has a family now. So maybe he should buy some fruit trees on his way home just in case. His phone rings, a welcome excuse to get away from the crash scene. Romero hopes it's Norma but frowns when he recognizes the number. Rebecca.

"Romero."

"Hi Alex." There is an awkward pause that makes him apprehend she might tell him leaving town was a mistake and she intends to come back. "Is that line safe?"

"I suppose so. Got any confessions to make?" He has no idea what she is up to and won't let her fool him.

Rebecca gives a false laugh. "Yeah, right! I… um, I just wanted to tell you something I'd overheard before I left town."

She could have told him before she left, of course. Then again, she was pissed off because he had married Norma. How was he supposed to know that she obviously had wanted him to marry her or at least want to marry her or whatever. It's funny. He will never get women in general, but somehow he seems to get Norma.

"Alex? Are you still there?"

"Yes, sure." He better not tell her he was distracted thinking of his wife, the woman he left her for. "If you got something to say, say it." They are beyond pleasantries.

"Always the romantic." She snorts. "You did a good job eradicating illegal business. Too good. The town is running out of money. So there is talk about bringing in someone new, maybe to start a new drug business or something else, I don't know. Either way, they need you to be out of the picture to do it."

"Who?"

She hesitates. "I can't say." That's code for she eavesdropped on someone at the bank she had been working for. They all have their code of honor, lines they don't cross for whatever reason. "It doesn't matter, anyway," Rebecca adds hastily. "They are not dangerous, but whoever they bring in will be."

Alex believes her. His instinct tells him so. Plus, Rebecca always stayed in the loop, always knew what was going on in White Pine Bay that was related to money laundering or similar white-collar crimes. Not his cup of tea. He has always been a hands-on kind of guy. However, she was a reliable source, among other things.

"Wouldn't be the first time someone threatens me. I know how to take care of myself." He pauses. "But thanks for telling me."

Rebecca sighs and lowers her voice, "You don't understand. It's not only you anymore, Alex. There are people in your life now they could use as leverage, try to pin something on them."

That gets Romero's attention. "You mean Norma or her sons? What did you overhear? Tell me," he urges her.

"Nothing specific. Just that they were looking for an unsuspicious way to get rid of you. Look, I was angry with you when I found out that you got married, but you never played me false. So I wanted you to know that. Take care, okay?" The line goes dead.

"Rebecca?" He tries to call her back, but she has already disconnected her phone. Alex has ways and means to trace someone, could trace her. He is certain, though, that she told him everything she knows. It was her parting gift. He gave her the key to the money; she gave him this.

"Sheriff!" One of his deputies waves at him and he walks over to check what is going on. A tow truck has arrived in the meantime and is pulling the damaged car out of the ditch. The deputy has to raise his voice to make himself heard, "We found something by accident. It was hidden behind some bushes nearby the tree the car crashed into. Don't we still have an ongoing investigation regarding that missing woman?" Audrey Ellis or Decody, Ellis was her maiden name. The suitcase that was found in the pit at the motel. Romero talked to Dylan about it but didn't gain any new insights since Dylan had been trying to trace Emma's mother to no avail.

"What did you find?"

"A robe, smeared with blood, and some hair." The deputy points at the ground. "There. I requested the guys from forensics to come over and take a look at it."

The robe is partly covered by leaves and branches. It's blue, sheer fabric, an elegant, kind of outdated style. All things considered, it awfully looks like one of Norma's robes. It could be a coincidence, could belong to someone else, even to Audrey Ellis, but the clothes in the suitcase were a different clothing style and somehow Alex doubts that any other woman in White Pine Bay dresses the way Norma does.

Romero stopped believing in coincidences a while ago. _They need you to be out of the picture. There are people in your life now they could use as leverage, try to pin something on them._ If this actually is Norma's robe as he suspects, however it has ended up here, her DNA will be on it as well as most likely someone else's blood. He suspected Norman to be involved in the disappearance of Emma's mother and maybe he is. The idea that someone could use whatever happened to stage a scenario, intended for bringing him down no matter the cost, has never occurred to him before though.

"Good job. Let me know when they've finished their job here." Alex nods at the deputy before he turns around and walks over to his car, his thoughts racing.

The wind freshens; there is a distant roll of thunder. A storm is coming.

* * *

To be continued

 **A/N:** This was more like a transitional chapter to set up the new situation. I hope you enjoyed it anyway. I already have some more ideas for tense scenes between the three of them during upcoming chapters. Perhaps you noticed that I slightly adjusted what happened on the show to make it fit into this alternate universe: Rebecca didn't get arrested. She actually got away with the money. Plus I almost forgot that it had to be Christmas at some point, considering the timeline of the show. OK then, so there will be a Christmas chapter in the near future although it's hot as hell outside right now and although it won't be a _normal_ Christmas, anyway, I can promise you as much. Thanks for reading.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N:** Lots of angst and lots of love. More or less Normero all the way. Enjoy!

Rating for language (f-bomb) and (sexual) content. Trigger warnings for the mention of suicide.

It's Christmas in July. So what did you expect? We all go a little mad sometimes.

The usual **disclaimer** applies.

* * *

 _Norman?_

He is not sure whether he is awake or asleep. In any case, he's in bed, stretching himself out for a few more minutes. It's so comfortable; he doesn't want to get up, especially not when she is here with him.

 _Move over, Norman. I need some space. You have become so tall._

He feels her breath against the back of his neck as she giggles, smells her perfume.

"Mother?" Norman turns around under the sheets, but she's not there anymore. He knew that, of course, and yet… it felt so real as he had hoped it would.

The effect of his medication abates faster than he expected. That is great news. It's been only two days that he has stopped taking his medication and already he is experiencing hallucinations. It was so good to hear his mother's voice. She sounded gentle, loving, nothing reminding him of the complicated situation at home. _Home_ … He sighs. It's the sheriff's home now, not his anymore. _Stop being dramatic_ , Norman chides himself, smiling when he realizes that he heard his mother's voice in his head saying the words. It's not the same, being with her when it's not actually her, but there is no other choice. If this is the only scenario that lets him have her for himself, he'll settle for it.

* * *

"You're up, I just wanted to wake you." Norma is disappointed. She got up early to call Norman or rather Dylan because it was the same scenario as every day. Norman wouldn't talk to her. Save that tomorrow is Christmas and she had hoped that this would soften him up. It did not; so some cuddling in bed to ease the pain is what she needs right now. Unfortunately her husband seems to have other plans. He is wearing is uniform, apparently ready to go to work. "Do you have to work today? I thought you have a couple of days off until after Christmas."

"Yeah, I do," Alex answers absentmindedly, "but I have to go in today to make sure the skeleton crew is prepared."

It's their first Christmas together. Maybe this is how things work when you are married to the sheriff. Norma can't shake the feeling that something is wrong though. "Okay...," she says slowly, watching him as he walks up and down the room, looking for something. Alex has been so supportive and understanding throughout the whole Norman situation; she has been waiting for something like this to happen. A mood swing, a blowup, but this is different, as if it wasn't even related to her or Norman. More than anything, he seems to be distracted. "Alex? Everything all right? What are you looking for?"

"Hm?" Romero picks a cushion up from the floor next to the bed. Out of the corner of his eye, he discerns a spot of white, pulling a shirt out from under the bed. It has lain in a corner, wadded and unnoticed until now.

"Give me that." Norma reaches out to take it. "I must have overlooked it when I cleaned up."

Alex is about to give it to her when he realizes it is not one of his and for sure not one of hers since this is a man's shirt. "Whose shirt is this?" It's not jealousy making him ask; he would never believe she was cheating on him. He just doesn't understand how another man's clothes could end up in here.

Norma shrugs. "Probably Norman's."

He frowns. "How did it get under the bed?"

She shrugs again. "How would I know? He probably took it off and dropped it, forgot to pick it up to put it in the laundry. Try to live with two sons and you'll…," Norma's voice trails off when she realizes that both of her sons don't live with her anymore, sadness clouding her delicate features. She makes a face to cover her melancholy.

But for once Alex doesn't worry about her state of mind. His thoughts are stuck as to the how and why the shirt ended up there. "Took it off? What do you mean? Why would he take his clothes off in here?" He looks at the connecting door between their bedroom and Norman's room, something that has been bothering him from the beginning, then back at her. "Did he sleep in here before I… before we…?" His distinct jawline she loves turns into a razor edge as he clenches his teeth.

This look. Norma hates the look Alex gives her. Reproachful, judgmental because she and Norman are too close, or were, whatever. You can't leave the past behind; something she has learned the hard way. It all adds up to the conclusion that she is a bad mother, and moreover, impossible to love considering everything. At least in her imagination that's what Alex is thinking in moments like these. Usually he says something or takes her in his arms to comfort her, distract her fears, but not today. It seems as if she has to talk this one out.

"Sometimes. When we talked and it got late. Not on a regular basis, not when he got older."

"He was already seventeen when you moved here."

"It was not… Well…," she stutters, exhaling to compose herself. "Dylan said something, I told Norman he couldn't sleep in here anymore, and that was about it." Casual, yet defensive. Norma wishes their conversation was over already. Nothing good is going to come out of it.

Romero stares at the bed as if he saw it for the first time. "So he _did_ use to sleep in here with you." It's not a question but a realization. There's a difference between accepting that your wife and her youngest son have a very close relationship that is probably unhealthy on some level and finding visual proof of it.

"What?" Norma laughs uneasily, trying to play his realization down. "You're making a big deal out of something that's nothing."

It's the wrong finding on the wrong day. And it's not Norma's fault that he is tense and moody. But the things he has been bottling up during the last days are clawing their way to the surface and he knows it will get ugly once they are out. Especially that one thing he is trying to avoid like the plague but that sticks to him and threatens to pull him under every year. _Every fucking year._ You would think things get better after a while. _Time heals all wounds_ and all that shit. As if. Some wounds are not meant to become scars. Ever. Alex feels his anger seethe inside of him. He wants to grab Norma, force her to show him which bed linens Norman slept in with her, and throw them away, hell, throw the entire bed away and buy a new one. Norma is his, their marriage the only thing that matters to him in a world that did not have much kindness for him until they met. Today of all days, he simply can't bear to let fate have the last laugh. He realizes that his hands have started to tremble, something Norma rightly interprets as rage but wrongly believes herself to be the reason for it. He has to get out before it gets worse, will explain everything to her but later. Right now he can't breathe and needs some air.

"Here." Alex hands Norman's shirt to Norma in passing.

"Alex! Don't be mad at me. Don't leave like that, please," her desperate voice echoes through the house, but he is already on his way out, almost running down the stairs.

Norma doesn't comprehend what is going on other than that it finally must have happened. What she is, what she and Norman are to each other, drove Alex away. The fabric of Norman's shirt is still warm where Alex held it, burning her skin.

* * *

She thinks about calling Dylan's number perhaps a dozen times or more but somehow manages to restrain herself before she presses dial. It would have been a pointless move, anyway. All she wants is to talk to Norman, the one person in the world who always understands her and would be able to comfort her. Unfortunately he is also the last person in the world who wants to talk to her. _Well, make that two,_ Norma thinks bitterly because her husband doesn't seem to be keen on talking to her either judging by the way he left. She thinks about calling Alex, too. As the minutes pass and turn into hours, her desperation fades and makes room for anger though. She is no saint, but neither is he. Who is he to condemn her?

Eventually Norma is so frustrated that she lets off a scream, throwing her cellphone across the room. What good does it do to own such a device if there is no one to call? It crashes against the wall, surprisingly still working despite some nasty scratches when she picks it up. At least she feels a tiny bit better.

Here she is, trapped in an empty house with no one to talk to, nothing to do. God, she hates to wallow in self-pity. So Norma puts on some music and occupies herself with housework as she always does when she needs to keep her thoughts and feelings in check. There is a brief moment of weakness when she does the laundry and buries her face in Norman's shirt that Alex found under the bed. It still smells like him, faintly but unmistakably. She considers hiding it in her wardrobe and basically has to rip it out of her own hands. Her fingers tremble as she turns on the washing machine before she can change her mind. Why is she so screwed up? Why are they all?

Late in the afternoon, she has scrubbed the entire house, cleared up half of the basement and is so tired that she almost falls asleep when she takes a bath. Still no sign of Alex. Norma decides to have a nap. As ugly as that scene was earlier, she refuses to believe that he won't come back home. Maybe a nap will help to make time elapse faster. She falls asleep as soon as her head rests on the pillow.

When Norma wakes up, the house is dark. It takes her a moment to remember what happened and find her bearings. A look at the clock tells her that it's almost midnight. Her heart skips a beat. Alex's side of the bed is still empty; he is not here. Then she hears something downstairs.

Alex is in the living room, trying to insert a DVD, however failing miserably because he is so drunk that he can't even stand still, let alone coordinate his movements.

"Alex?" Norma has witnessed him drunk before but not like this.

"What happened to you?" he slurs when he sees her. Here they go again. What happened to hello? She didn't blow dry her hair. Therefore it's curlier than usual and ruffled since she just woke up. He used to like it that way. "Looks sexy," Alex adds. Ok then, _still_ likes it that way.

He fumbles around with the DVD player some more and finally simply turns on the TV, the volume too high, some action movie blasting away. Norma grabs the remote and turns the TV off.

"God, Alex, what is going on with you?" It can't just be Norman's shirt. Something else must have happened. Only now she notices the smell because she is standing right next to him. Norma sniffs. "What is this smell? Have you been at a campfire?" Perhaps there is some strange Christmas ritual in White Pine Bay she knows nothing about.

Alex gives a laugh. It doesn't even remotely sound happy. "Yeah, something like that." He leaves it at that, no further explanation, nothing whatsoever.

"Care to elaborate?"

He has trouble forming a coherent sentence. Dear Lord, whatever it is that is going on, it has its claws deep in his soul. "There... there was a... a fire… at the police station."

"Oh my God. Did someone get hurt? What happened?"

He is slurring so badly by now that Norma has to make him repeat his words three times before she eventually understands what he is saying. "Short circuit. No one got hurt, only me a bit."

Alex raises his hand so fast and clumsily that she has to step back so that he doesn't hit her unintentionally. There is a burn on his hand, minor but still.

"Why didn't you say anything? Let me take care of that."

Norma gets the first aid kit in a heartbeat, ushering him to the couch. Alex drops down on it as if he was carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. She carefully treats his wound although it doesn't seem to hurt or perhaps he is so consumed by whatever other pain that he doesn't feel it. The situation is similar to the one months ago when she treated his laceration. The moment their eyes met back then, she knew something was bound to happen between them sooner or later even if she would have assumed affair and not marriage, lust and not love. The fond memory makes her smile. Alex is growing quiet, her touch soothing him. He is not smiling, but the way he looks at her now at least remotely resembles the man she has come to know as her husband.

"You're good at that. Taking care of others." The way he says it tells her that he, too, remembers. He doesn't slur his speech as badly as before anymore.

"Yes. I like it." It's her way of bearding an unkind world.

"I fell in love with you then. Or maybe I already loved you, maybe I've always loved you, even before I knew you. Do you believe in fate? That we were meant to be? I couldn't let anything happen to you. I don't know what they have planned. I had to protect you. I couldn't risk it," he is talking himself into a rage.

"Alex… Alex, stop! What are you talking about?"

"They found your robe in the woods."

That makes no sense. "What?"

He looks at her, really looks at her, his eyes focusing on her face through the drunken haze. And then he tells her. About the robe, about Rebecca's warning, that he had no other choice than to destroy the evidence. Her robe as well as the DNA samples. It's not difficult to fake a short circuit and cause a fire. It's Christmas, they are shorthanded, the case of a missing woman not a top priority since they don't even can be sure she actually is missing and didn't disappear on purpose. So today was the day the DNA samples would have been sent in if they hadn't been destroyed in the fire along with the robe. Now the physical proof is gone that could have connected her to a possible crime, Norma is safe. Alex wasn't searching for anything this morning when she came back into the bedroom. He was stalling because he kept thinking about what to do and whether to tell her or not. They are beyond hiding secrets from each other, and yet, every day seems to be a new challenge regarding that aspiration.

Norma sighs, her hands touching his face, his chest. She is unable to let go of him, another déjà vu hitting her hard. Bob Paris. She didn't need another proof that Alex is willing to do anything to protect her; she knows. The last thing she wants is that he puts himself in danger for her sake.

"Was that the reason why you were acting so weird this morning? I'm sorry about the shirt and… everything." She doesn't even know exactly what she is apologizing for, just that she doesn't want things to be so messed up.

"Yes... No." Alex seems to sober up and along with soberness comes fatigue. It's difficult for him to concentrate. "Today is the anniversary." The only anniversary Norma knows of that makes him sad is his mother's birthday, but this is another date. He doesn't look at her but at their intertwined fingers when he speaks on, "She killed herself the night before Christmas."

Some truths are so cruel you wish you could unhear them although it wouldn't make them any less real. She knew that his mother had committed suicide, but they never talked about the specific date. No wonder he wasn't as enthusiastic as she had hoped when she asked him to decorate the Christmas tree with her some days ago.

"Oh Alex." Norma pulls him into her arms, feels his restraint waver as he tries to keep up the facade before he eventually gives in.

There is no sound, just silence. If it wasn't for his twitching shoulders and the dampness she feels on her neck, she wouldn't know he is crying. Something tells her he has never allowed himself to show his grief before, at least not in the presence of someone else. It breaks her heart and fills her with gratefulness at the same time. There is so much he has done for her; this is the least she can do for him in return.

His breathing becomes regular again and he leans back to look at her. Norma wouldn't normally call a man beautiful, but he is, his dark eyes a sea of devotion in an otherwise stoic face. One of his many contradictions that fascinate her.

Norma expected Alex to be drained, considering everything that has happened today, longing for a good night's sleep. His kiss catches her by surprise. He tastes of Scotch and pain and love and it is one of the best kisses they have ever shared because of its raw honesty. There are no hiding places anymore. It's just them, right here.

When he pulls her onto his lap, he is already hard. It was a strange day. She is tired; they both are, but it seems to be what he needs right now. Alex kisses her again, his hands already finding their way underneath her clothes, eager to touch bare skin. As much as she desires him, Norma is not in the mood to make love. She wants to be close to him though. Being with Alex is so different from being with any other men she slept with before; he would never pressure her into doing anything. That's why she wants to give in to him all the more.

She takes off her panties as he watches her, his pupils fully dilated due to his arousal and even darker than usual. When she slips back onto his lap and reaches for his belt, Alex's hands caress her thighs, sliding between her legs to make her catch up with his level of arousal. Norma gently pushes his hands away. Her body is already responding to their closeness; she doesn't need the additional stimulation. Alex stops for a moment, scrutinizing her to make sure this is what she really wants. His breathing becomes erratic as she pushes down on him and settles for a slow rhythm. He leans his head against the backrest of the couch, not breaking eye contact when he grabs the back of her neck to pull her closer. At first Norma thinks he is going to kiss her again, but right before their lips meet he halts, their faces so close that she can feel his breath on her skin.

"We don't have to do this if you don't want to."

She smiles. He would stop right now if she told him to.

"I don't want to stop. Let me do this for you. This is not about me," Norma whispers.

Something flits across Alex's face, a sentiment that goes deeper than love, deeper than anything he has ever told her. It almost scares her. Then he kisses her softly, a sharp contrast to the desperation and need that have influenced his actions until now, his words that follow when he breaks their kiss the one and only truth that defines his life.

"Everything is about you."

* * *

To be continued

 _I'm thinking about having several, alternate endings for this story, e.g. one happy ending and one tragic one. I'm a sucker for angst, but I also want the characters to be happy and this could be a way to have it all at once. Not that the end of this story is near. There will be some more chapters first. I just thought I'd share the idea and ask you what you think about it. So?_


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N:** So this is the Christmas/New Year chapter in August. ;) Enjoy!

To the guest who asked if I plan on bringing Caleb back: I am, indeed, thinking about a way how to include his character into this story. Not sure as yet, though, how to do that. But I'm always eager to hear your thoughts and ideas. It's very much appreciated and gives my muse food for thought.

The usual **disclaimer** applies.

* * *

"Did you check that all the windows are closed?" Norma asks for the third time as she puts on her coat.

"They all are," Romero assures her patiently. "All the windows are closed, all the doors are locked, nothing will happen to the house while we're away."

"Ok." She nods and takes a deep breath albeit what they are about to do is not unpleasant. If anything, she is excited and happy, or will be at least, once they will sit in the car and her sense of guilt will hopefully and eventually abate.

It's just... she has never been on vacation before. Ever, as sad as it is. Neither of her two previous husbands had the money, let alone the kindness to take her and her sons anywhere beyond the one or other day trip. And now she is actually going on vacation for the first time in her life and he's not with her. Norman. So, it's just, it's just…

"Norma!" Alex grabs her shoulders gently. "We will only be gone for three days, but we don't have to go if you don't want to."

"No, no. I want to go. I do. Just ignore me. I'm being silly." Norma makes a dismissive gesture, wishing she could erase her demons just as easily.

It's Alex's Christmas present for her. One of many. Three days in a lovely hotel, including a New Year five-course dinner. Norma was a little flustered to find not only one but several neatly wrapped up gifts under the Christmas tree, the thought that he must have considered carefully what to get her to give her a treat still warming her heart, suffusing her with an unfamiliar, light-hearted happiness. She touches the golden necklace she is wearing, simple in its beauty as if it was made for her, catching Alex's expression. He smiles, content that she likes his gift, his gaze wandering to the scarf in her hand she is about to put on. Another one of his gifts. Blue silk that matches the color of her eyes.

It was the best and worst Christmas she has ever had. The best because it was her first Christmas with Alex, the worst for equally obvious reasons. Norman not being with her, not even talking to her. At least Dylan called. It was a Christmas of mixed feelings for them, too. A close friend of Emma's father had died unexpectedly and her father had flown to England to attend the funeral and spend some time with the family of his deceased friend. It was Emma's first Christmas with Dylan but also her first without her father.

Life is like that. It gives and it takes and you just have to keep going. Norma looks at Alex. He is standing right next to her in the hallway, giving her the time she needs. He knows her so well by now.

"Let's go," she says.

* * *

The house is dark. It's not that late; there should be a light on somewhere. Norman turns around and looks at the motel. Maybe the heating is broken and they are staying there. But no, the motel also is dark, even the _no vacancy_ sign has been turned off. Something is not right. It was a long journey though; he is not going back. Norman picks up his suitcase and walks up to the house.

His assumption is confirmed when no one answers the door and he has to let himself in with his key. The house is uninhabited, silent, the howling wind outside the only sound. It's kind of creepy; he has never been here completely on his own for a longer period of time. His mother always was there with him, was down at the motel or out buying groceries at most. But this… it feels as if she's gone for good.

A cold fear claws at Norman's heart. Did his mother leave him? Run off with the sheriff? In a way, he would deserve it. It was him who left her first, refused to talk to her. He stands in the hallway, uncertain what to do, when he hears a bark and sees Juno come down the stairs. There is someone here at least.

"Juno!" Norman kneels down, petting the dog's soft, blonde hair. He has missed her. And he misses his mother. So much.

* * *

"This is beautiful. Thank you so much, Alex."

They are on the roof terrace of the hotel watching New Year's fireworks. Their stay has been perfect so far. Norma still can't believe Alex booked the honeymoon suite. He is such a romantic beneath his stoic facade. Their New Year's five-course dinner consisted of food with impressive names and and even more impressive taste. Alex had to stop her from walking right into the kitchen to ask the cook for the recipes. It feels as if she has been dreaming ever since they arrived. She can't stop thanking him. It has started to snow; Norma shivers from the cold. Alex pulls her into his arms to keep her warm.

"Stop thanking me. You deserve it."

He can't stop smiling though, the appreciation that it is him who has put that smile on her face no one seems to be able to erase, making him incredibly happy in return.

Alex remembers the moment after they had unpacked their Christmas presents and the look in Norma's eyes suddenly changed into a mischievous grin as she stood up and pulled one sleeve of her dress down her shoulder so that he could see her lingerie. Red lace, something he had never seen her wear before.

"Merry Christmas, Sheriff Romero, Santa left another present for you to unwrap," she teased him.

He needed no second invitation, pulling her down on the couch. They made love in bed all the time. This was Christmas, time to appreciate the nicely decorated tree and make some memories. "Let's see what you have there for me, Mrs. Bates," he whispered into her ear, remembering her _I'm keeping my name_ line.

Norma gently pushed him away so that she could look at him, her expression sincere and vulnerable. He was worried for a moment, wondering what he could have said or done wrong.

"That's not my name anymore," she then said.

It took him a moment to understand but when he did, it was the best Christmas present ever.

Norma snuggles into Alex, bringing him back to the here and now. He kisses her, tasting the expensive wine on her lips, "Happy New Year, Mrs. Romero."

They are in a bubble, he is aware of that, but here they are, happy and together and he will enjoy it as long as it lasts.

* * *

Norman is in his mother's bedroom, looking out the window. He can see White Pine Bay's New Year's fireworks from here, dashes of color lighting up the sky. He has never understood that ritual or why people would want to gather to celebrate it. Norman has always been pleased to celebrate New Year with his mother, just as any other holiday. Their first New Year after they had moved to White Pine Bay they stood right here, his mother snuggling into him, kissing him on the neck like she always does. He wonders where she is. Until now he has resisted to call her albeit he can't call Dylan either. His brother drove him here on their way to the airport. Emma and he spontaneously decided to join Emma's father in Europe and spend New Year there. Dylan's cellphone is not working over there, but he promised to contact Norman. They are probably still celebrating.

"Happy New Year, Juno," Norman wistfully says, watching the snow outside that has started to fall. He has been waiting for his mother all night, but she didn't come, neither version of her.

* * *

Alex stretches out in bed. His muscles feel sore; he didn't know that one could get aching muscles from dancing. One more thing Norma has taught him. She is insatiable when it comes to dancing. Once she had pulled him on the dance floor, she wasn't able to stop and wouldn't let him leave either. At some point, she had started to hum the melodies along what eventually led to a duet with the piano player around 3 AM. Only after that she reluctantly agreed to go to their room. Unlike his wife, Alex isn't able to function without sleep. This woman is going to be the death of him. And yet, he can't stop worrying about her.

"Did you call, Norman?" She will be angry with herself if she forgot to call her son because they were having a party.

"Huh?" Norma is almost asleep in his arms, her hair tickling his face. "Um… no… I didn't call Dylan either. I'll call both of them tomorrow when we're back home. This is just us. Just for tonight." Even as sleepy as she is, there is a hint of guilt in her voice that trails off when she finally gives in to fatigue and starts to breathe deeply.

Alex closes his eyes and is asleep within seconds, too, her words comforting and bothering him at the same time. Here and now, it's just them. But their bubble has a timestamp. Tomorrow they are going home.

* * *

Norman ponders on sleeping in her bed. However, the knowledge that the sheriff has been sleeping in there with his mother puts him off. He lay down on the bed in between and immediately noticed the different smell. It's not only her sweet fragrance anymore but also a heavy, masculine scent that causes unwelcome images of _that man_ in bed with her, doing things to her.

Therefore he walks into his room to sleep there. The fireworks are over; there is nothing left to do. He might as well go to sleep although he is not tired at all. When he is about to pull on the teeshirt of his pajama, he notices a dark smear on it. Was that already there yesterday? His days are getting blurrier since he discontinued his medication or at least reduced the dose significantly. Norman found out that it's best to only take a small dose of his medication. It allows him to envision his mother while keeping his temper tantrums at bay. The change in his behavior would have been too drastic otherwise; Emma and Dylan would have noticed sooner or later. The only thing he hasn't found out as yet is how to control when she comes to him, something he would love to do so that he doesn't have to spend evenings like these alone. Norman looks at the teeshirt he still is holding in his hands, having lost his train of thought. What was he going to do? Oh yeah, getting ready for bed when he noticed the stain. The stain is dark and has a metallic smell, like dried blood. Norman looks at his hands, but there is no open wound. He must have packed some unwashed clothes. Suddenly he feels very tired. Norman takes another teeshirt out of the suitcase, hoping his mother will come back home soon. He hates to do laundry.

* * *

"Here we are, back home," Alex announces more cheerfully than he feels. Norma's mood continuously worsened on their way home. Just like she didn't want to leave at first, she doesn't seem to want to go back now.

She forces a smile for his sake as he parks the car. "Here we are," Norma repeats, her voice flat.

They walk up the stairs to the house in silence. When Alex's phone rings, both of them startle. It's one of his deputies.

"I wasn't sure you were already back in town. There is a woman here. She only wants to talk to you."

"Who?"

"She won't say her name, but she says it's urgent."

It's New Year's Day. There's still only a skeleton crew working. Romero had other plans today; he is only supposed to go back to work the day after tomorrow. Then again, the sheriff is never really off duty. It's his town, his responsibility. It's in his genes and part of why he likes his job so much or at least used to before Norma. The more often he has to leave her alone, the more he is at odds with himself. Especially in moments like these when he knows she doesn't want to be alone but would never say so.

He sighs. His sense of duty leaves him no choice. "I'll come by," Alex says curtly before he ends the call.

"What is it?" Norma asks.

"Some urgent case. I need to go and check what's going on. I won't be long."

She can read his moods by now. "Don't worry, Alex. We had such a good time. I'll make dinner and we will have a nice evening when you're back."

Good food is Norma's solution for everything in life. It makes him smile. They have reached the front porch. Romero puts the suitcase down to get the keys out of his jacket pocket, but Norma interrupts him with a kiss.

"It's ok. Go."

"Let me at least carry the suitcase inside."

"Alex… The washing machine is on the first floor. The sooner you leave, the sooner you'll be back."

That convinces him. He gives her a peck and sets off.

Norma looks after him, taking a deep breath. She had to force herself to sound light-hearted and casual. She hates the imagination that it will be her all alone in that big house. Particularly after they have spend such a wonderful time together. But it's his job and she would never want him to feel guilty for having to do whatever it requires. It's not his problem that coming back home is harder for her than she expected. When they walked up to the house, she thought she had seen movement in the bedroom window, a blurry outline standing there, looking down at them. It's probably a good thing that she has some time alone to adjust and get these weird ideas out of her system.

She wants to unlock the front door but stops and frowns when she realizes that it already is. Did Alex forget to lock it? She had probably nagged him one time too often about making sure the house was bolted and barred before they left. The moment Norma steps inside the house and closes the door behind her, though, her hackles raise. Something is not right. She doesn't hear anything; however the sense of something behind her, about to attack her is overwhelming. Norma drops the suitcase and spins around.

He just stands there as if he came out of nowhere, unmoving, looking at her as if he wasn't certain whether she is real or not.

"Hello, mother."

* * *

To be continued

 _In case my lovely fellow writer DoomedSometimes reads this: I had to laugh when I read your last story and you mentioned Norma never wearing red lingerie. Believe it or not, that part of my story had already been written before I read your story. I thought it was funny, anyway. :)_


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N:** A rather short update. My life is crazy right now which means that I have basically zero time to write but want to keep the story going nevertheless. Thank you to everyone who is reading and reviewing this. Your support means a lot to me.

The usual **disclaimer** applies.

* * *

"Norman!"

After the initial shock that someone else is in the house, fear makes way for delight. Norma drops the suitcase and takes a step forward to embrace her son but then stops, uncertain what do do. They haven't been on good terms lately; she doesn't want to scare him off.

"Norman," quieter now. She slowly approaches him; only when he doesn't back away from her, she enfolds him in her arms. "Norman," his name like a mantra, her voice muffled by his sweater, almost a sob. She can't believe it's really him. Moments ago she dreaded going into an empty house, and here he is, back home again. It's all gonna be good now.

He doesn't react at first, is nearly catatonic. Norman was playing with Juno and talking to his mother in her bedroom, a genuinely happy moment, when he saw her and the sheriff come up the stairs. It is the moment he has been waiting for, yearning for. His mother is back. His _real_ mother. And yet, he almost feels a twinge of regret because the imaginary moment was so peaceful. No sheriff, no recriminations, no guilt. He is getting better at controlling his visions, coming closer to making her do what he wants. It's fascinating and scaring at the same time. At this moment, his senses are flooded by his mother's real presence though – the way she smells, the way she clings to him – and he can't help but put his arms around her to hold her as tight as possible. He has missed her, missed this, even if it is not the world his mind has created, the only place left, aside from his mother's arms, where he feels safe these days.

"Where is…?" His face says it all. _The sheriff._ This is the real world. And it's not only the two of them.

"Oh…" Norma understands what he means in an instant. "He had to go to the office." That's it. No explanation why or where they have been. Instead, she touches her son's face, his shoulders, runs her fingers through his hair. "I'm so glad you're back. Tell me. How have you been?"

"I'm fine."

She looks askance at him; he has to be careful what he says and how he behaves. His mother knows every version of him – the sedated version due to the medication, the unhinged version from before he barely remembers; she even knows his blacked out self better than he knows it himself.

"Really, mother, I'm fine," Norman assures her, and this time, she believes him for the simple reason that he is telling the truth. Right now, right here, he feels fine. It's good to be back and to be with her. At least as long as the sheriff is not.

Norma drags Norman along behind her into the living room, her lively energy luring him into her world as always. "Sit down." She points at the couch. "I'll make us some tea and then you have to tell me everything."

* * *

"Where is that woman?" Romero asks as soon as he enters the building, wasting no time. The deserted streets on his way over reminded him that everyone is spending time with their families. He can't wait to get back home.

"In the interrogation room. I didn't know where else to put her," his deputy says nervously. He is young, eager to please his boss, volunteered for the skeleton crew.

Romero curtly nods to him in passing, already on his way to the room.

The woman is of average height and weight, with dark, short hair, wearing heavy make-up. Something about her looks familiar.

"Alex Romero. I'm the sheriff. You wanted to talk to me?"

Could be anything. Some self-important nobody that feels lonely. A victim that trusts no one aside from the man in charge. Things like that happen on a regular basis. His title intrigues people, his attention makes them feel as if they are upgrading their own image.

"Yes." She looks at him expectantly. Maybe he does, indeed, know her and she expects him to recognize her. However, he doesn't.

"Do you have a name?"

Something in her expression changes. Anticipation gives way to regret. Then, after a quick glance at the door, making sure it is closed so that no one is able to see them or overhear their conversation, she pulls the wig off, revealing long, red hair. Of course. It was the wig and the make-up that fooled him. He doesn't actually know her, but they have been investigating her alleged disappearance.

"Audrey Decody or Ellis, depending whether you ask my ex-husband or me."

"Why did you leave your suitcase at the motel? Threw it into the pit?" Romero has learned that it's not the big questions that lead to the truth but the small details. Everyone can make up a huge lie; it's much more difficult to get the little things right.

"I didn't throw my suitcase into the pit. Norman Bates must have done that after he tried to kill me," she delivers the statement seemingly unfazed, but he notices the indications of her emotional turmoil – her trembling lip, her quavering voice. "He choked me, thought I was dead, and dumped me into the lake." She gives a humorless laugh, rubbing her arms as if she was freezing. "But a cat has nine lives. I woke up on the waterfront."

She is telling the truth. Alex's trained eye sees no traitorous signs that she is not.

"Why are you here?" There is no need for a wig or the hide-and-seek if she simply wanted to press charges against Norman.

"They need you out of the picture. Either you resign or I will tell the truth about Norman Bates. You have until the end of the week. Come up with a reasonable story and leave this town. That shouldn't be too hard considering you are newlywed. I guess your wife prefers you alive and her son out of prison."

It's as if two of his many nightmares have decided to unite. He suspected Norman to be involved in Audrey Ellis' disappearance. Plus Rebecca's warning was justified. _They_ have found a way to get him. The fire he set destroyed all evidence. However, he didn't expect new evidence to turn up. Evidence that is very much alive and able to testify. From what they have ascertained about Audrey Ellis so far, Alex knows that she has been leading a rather wild life. The offer of some extra money in exchange for blackmail must have come in handy. Romero has killed before and wouldn't hesitate to kill again to keep his family safe, but there is a difference between eliminating someone who is a murderer himself and a woman who is only a pawn in the hands of the powerful. Let alone that he is old-fashioned and doesn't kill women.

"Why would anybody believe you? As far as I know, you're lying." Rule No. 1. Never give in, never let show that they have managed to intimidate you.

"Because there are photos, because his DNA was all over me."

Romero is certain that Norman tried to kill her. Securing his DNA is another story though. If the powers that be actually have it, then the game is over. Could be a bluff, could be the truth. Either way, they briefed her well.

The woman stands up. Obviously their chit-chat is over. "It's your choice," she says, walking out of the room, not bothering to put the wig back on.

* * *

As much as he craved after getting back home earlier, as much he is dreading it now. Alex takes a detour, stalling for time.

There is nothing he wouldn't do for Norma, but this… His job is his life; it's who he is. And the motel is hers; she came to White Pine Bay to start over. Does he really want to sacrifice both of their lives to save Norman? In all honesty, he would do it to save Norma, not her son, and yet… He remembers what she said to him a while ago. Something along the lines that Norman would dissolve in prison and that this would kill her. Does it still stand true? Things have changed. Norma has realized what her son is capable of, that he is dangerous, at least to some extent. Would she believe him if he told her Norman tried to kill Emma's mother? _Yes_ , he decides. _She would._ Then again, the thing with Norma is that even if she believed him, she would pretend she didn't or that Norman didn't do it because that's who she is, irrevocably determined to fix her son the only way she knows – by loving him and standing by him no matter what. He made her choose once and she chose him. Her choice back then didn't imply throwing her son to the wolves though. This time it would. Something Norma will never do. So they would have to leave. And then what? Would they live a life in exile with or without a son who hates him? A son who is a murderer. Something he has always suspected but never had sufficient proof.

Alex is lost; he doesn't know what to do. Norma should have a say in the decision, but given everything she is not unbiased enough to make a reasonable choice regarding something that will have an impact on the rest of their lives. So what is the right thing to do? What if there is no right thing to do?

He has arrived at the motel. Romero looks up at the house. It's their home; he doesn't want to move somewhere else.

* * *

"Look who's back!" Norma jumps up when Alex comes in but not before he saw how close she and Norman were sitting on the couch, holding hands.

He stops dead in his tracks, staring at a scenario he hasn't expected to be confronted with. It's the last thing he needs to deal with right now. Things are difficult enough as they are. The fact that Norman came back makes them twice as complicated. He needs time to figure out what to do. Time alone with Norma. Alex looks at his wife. They came back from their quick New Year's trip only two hours ago, but right now it feels like a lifetime ago. The way Norma watches him, silently pleading with him to give her son another chance breaks his heart. She is looking forward to their reunion, to a second chance. Save that her hopes will be dashed soon either way.

"Hi, Norman." Stilted, forced. Alex is aware of it, noticing Norma's disappointment. He is not able to give a warm welcome to her son, though, the images of Norman choking Emma's mother and dumping her lifeless body into the lake stuck in his head.

There is a slight hesitation on Norman's part before he also stands up and approaches him, his hand stretched out. "Alex."

They shake hands, Norma beaming happily. "I'm going to make us dinner. You.. you will eat with us, Norman, right?"

After another moment's hesitation, "Yes, mother, I will."

There is no brighter smile in the entire world than Norma's. "Ok. I'll go and make dinner then. You two… just talk. Norman has so much to tell about Dylan and Emma. They had such a lovely time together." Now that Norman is back, Norma can generously accept that he has been living with his brother for a while.

An awkward silence sets in as they listen to Norma clatter with pots in the kitchen.

"So…," Romero starts but is interrupted immediately.

Norman leans forward, whispering so that Norma can't hear him, "You will never have her for yourself. I will take her back."

* * *

To be continued


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N:** As always, thank you so much for the reviews and your support. My heartfelt thanks especially goes to the guest reviewers who cheered me up after that one not so nice comment. You made my day and are AWESOME ! :)

Minor trigger warning for self-harm just to be on the safe side.

This is one of the chapters that kept getting longer and longer, but I didn't want to split it to keep up the tension. However, writing it was a wild ride because there are some twists and turns. I hope not too many. Then again, this is Bates Motel we're talking about, the epitome of fast, surprising, and sometimes strange story telling. ;) So I hope you'll enjoy it.

The usual **disclaimer** applies.

* * *

 _Tomorrow…_ _I will talk it over with her tomorrow._ That's what Alex told himself after Norman's threat. They had an awkward dinner. Norman was overly polite and talkative whereas he was distanced and quiet. Norma put his detachment towards her son down to the general situation, being plain happy that Norman seemed to be so cooperative. A quandary. At least there have been no more ax incidents.

Romero can't fall sleep; his thoughts keep him awake, his indecision torments him while Norma is breathing deeply next to him. This is not like him. Usually he is grimly determined, acting on the spur of a moment. But not this time. Not when his wife is involved. No matter how you look at it, no one can win this. If they stay, Norman will get investigated, possibly arrested, maybe end up in prison. If they leave, he can't let Norman be at large either, now that his suspicion that he is dangerous has been confirmed. This is what torments him the most. He almost has come to terms with the idea that he has to resign, that they have to move somewhere else. He can run for sheriff in another town; they can build a new life somewhere else. Perhaps it will even be a better life if they leave their baggage behind. But what about Norman? Considering his behavior, he won't commit himself again and to have him committed against his will, he would have to reveal what happened to Emma's mother either way to cause an involuntary commitment and Norma would never forgive him that. It's a damned impasse. Alex is thinking dismal thoughts all night, dozing off in between, already wide awake again when dawn breaks.

Norma stirs, noticing that he is alert. "Good morning," she mumbles, still half asleep.

"Good morning, love." She is the best thing in his life. He can't imagine losing her, won't allow that to happen, no matter what the cost.

She frowns. "Since when do you call me love?"

"Since now." He traces her cheekbone with his fingers as her expression becomes more focused.

"You look tired. Didn't you sleep well?"

"I had a bad dream." It's a white lie. He often has nightmares; she knows that, and all things considered, this _is_ a nightmare. Save that it is one he won't wake up from anytime soon.

The expression in Norma's eyes changes from sleepy to playful. "Don't..." She grabs the back of his neck and pulls him closer, kissing him. "...let a bad dream..." Another kiss. "...get you down." She pulls some more so that he rolls on top of her. "Maybe I can take your mind off things." Norma's hand slips between them, stroking him, and despite the messy situation, his body reacts immediately. They were both pleased to find out that enjoying morning sex is one of their common features.

"I think you can, Mrs. Romero. In fact, I have the one or other idea how."

Later… Whatever he will or won't tell her, he will decide later.

* * *

Blood. There is blood everywhere, covering his hands up to his wrists. Surprisingly it doesn't feel uncomfortable but warm, almost cozy. He watches his hands as if they belonged to someone else, turning them around and around. There is no inch that is not covered in red.

A sound catches his attention. A rattle. He looks around. It's coming from the adjoining room. He follows the sound, detecting a body on the floor. A woman. She is trying to crawl towards the front door but gives up, obviously too weak, resting in a trail of blood that seeps out of her body from various stab wounds.

She coughs; it sounds familiar. Suddenly it is getting darker and the entire room begins to shake, the walls crumbling away. He can barely manage to remain standing upright. Then the woman turns her head and he recognizes the face.

Norman wakes up, gasping for air, looking at his hands, expecting to see blood, but they are clean. He glances around. It is getting increasingly difficult for him to distinguish reality from his hallucinations. There are indications. Juno for example. Whenever she is with him, he knows that whatever happens is not real. But she is not always there. So he decided he needed another reminder and inflicted a cut on himself. It's on the inside of his upper arm, high enough so that it is hidden under his shirt even if it has short sleeves so that his mother won't discover the wound. He doesn't want her to worry about him. Norman pushes his sleeve up. There is the cut, meaning he is awake. If he was blacked out, there would be no cut. What kind of a weird dream was that? He winces when he hears a knock on his door.

"Norman? Are you awake? Do you want to have breakfast with us?"

He takes a deep breath in an effort to shake off the aftermath of his nightmare. "Yes, mother. I'll be downstairs in a minute."

Norman looks at his hands, afraid the blood will reappear, but nothing happens. It was just a bad dream, wasn't it?

* * *

When he enters the kitchen, Norman is pleased to see that the sheriff hasn't joined them yet. It's only his mother, spinning around, her cheerful energy impossible to resist.

"Good morning, mother." He hugs her, longer than appropriate, burying his nose in her hair so that he can inhale her scent, and she lets him.

"Good morning, honey. It's nice that you're having breakfast with us. Did you sleep well?" She studies him. "You look tired. What is going on with you two? Alex looked tired this morning, too." Norma notices the shadow that flits across her son's face at the mention of that name and changes the subject. "Have you heard from Dylan? I still haven't gotten a New Year's call from him and my calls go straight to his voicemail. I tried to call him even if you said his phone is not working in Europe."

Norman sits down. The pancakes smell delicious; suddenly he is very hungry. Then he remembers her question. "Um… no. He said he would call me, but he hasn't called yet. There is probably a lot going on and they are in a different time zone. He will call. Don't worry."

"Yeah, yeah, you're right. I worry too much. I only need to know that my two boys are okay."

Norma smiles. This is what she has always wanted. A happy family. She hears Alex come down the stairs and wishes Dylan were also with them.

* * *

Alex wanted to spend his last day off with Norma but when they have finished breakfast, she hesitates and then asks, "Alex, would you mind if I talked to Norman alone for a moment?"

Considering everything, he does mind, but what is he supposed to say? "No. Of course not. I… I have to check the oil level, anyway. I'll be outside."

"Thank you."

Norman watches the scene warily. He is not naive. This is not the breakthrough he is aiming for; his mother is not about to leave the sheriff. Yet. For now, she thinks everything is fine and he will let her believe that, will play the docile son while at the same time antagonizing the sheriff until he will snap and treat him so badly that it will turn his mother against her husband. A simple plan. The simplest plans usually are the most effective.

"What is it, mother?" he asks as soon as the sheriff has left the room.

"Norman..." She sits back down at the table. The thought has occurred to her on and off the entire time ever since Norman decided to stay with Dylan. And the fact that he came back voluntarily and obviously wants to make them work as a family has strengthened her resolve to tell him. She takes a deep breath. "What you said to me when we had our first dinner together, you, me and Alex. That I kept you too close, wouldn't let you have your own life or a girlfriend and then decided to make room for someone else… You were right." Norma screws up her face. "I never wanted to hurt you, Norman. I believed keeping you as close as I did would protect you and I was… I was selfish. We only had each other; you were the only one I ever trusted before Alex." She takes his hand. "I was afraid to be alone, but that was stupid. You will never leave me and I will never leave you. You are my son. I am your mother. So thank you, Norman. Thank you for giving Alex a chance. It means the world to me. I couldn't be happy if I knew you hate him."

His hand twitches in hers. Manipulating the sheriff is one thing. This, however… Her love for him is so pure, her words so honest that they cut into him like a knife. The medication used to make him numb and before that his anger and confusion had made him blind but now… It's as if he sees things clearly for the first time and it's not a pretty picture. His plan is sinister. His intentions as selfish as hers were, not wanting to share her with someone else. Maybe she is right. Maybe there is room in the heart for more than one person. And here she is, asking him for forgiveness. All she wants is a happy life. How can he do this to her? He doesn't deserve her love.

"Mother…," his voice breaks as he tears up.

"Norman. What is it?"

He doesn't know what else to do and jumps up, clasping her in his arms. "I love you so much." Then he weeps bitterly as she holds him, murmuring comforting words, believing these are tears of forgiveness, that it's really all gonna be good now.

* * *

Norma practically flies down the steps in front of the house.

"Norma! Everything ok?" Alex is still at his car, has been biding his time.

"Yes. Everything is wonderful. Isn't it a wonderful day?" She looks up at the dark sky as if it was clear and sunny.

Only now he notices the sheets she is carrying with her. "What's going on?"

"Oh. This. Um… I wanted to put clean sheets on the bed in room no. 1."

Romero looks at the parking lot in front of the motel. "We have no guests, do we?"

"No, but…," Norma lowers her voice, "I forgot to change the sheets after we… you know. And I like to have everything neat and tidy. I'll be with you in a minute. Would you like to take a walk with me then?"

It's going to snow soon, let alone that the cold is piercing. But she doesn't seem to freeze and he wants to spend time with her. Alone. Besides it's impossible to resist her when she smiles at him like that.

"Ok. Let's take a walk." Anything that takes them away from her son.

Norma has just disappeared from his view when Norman comes down the steps, too, passing Romero without a word or a glance in his direction. He walks straight up to the office, closing the door behind him. Something about him seems to be different. Then again, something about Norman always is different.

* * *

"I don't want you here," Norman hisses.

He went into the office of the motel, hoping that she wouldn't follow him. On some days he can control her better than on others. This is one of the latter. After his teary breakdown, his mother, his _real_ mother, was convinced that everything was fine whereas he felt himself slipping, tumbling over the edge right into the abyss of another blackout. They are not what they used to be. He doesn't lose time, does know what's going on, at least mostly. The reduced medication apparently causes that effect. And whenever he is not sure what is going on, whether it's an illusion or not, he has the cut on his arm to make sure. Usually he loves when mother joins him, craves after her, but not now, not after what just happened. He feels guilty, dirty, ashamed of himself.

"I'm bored. Let's do something fun." She circles him, touching him, her hands hot on his skin even through the layers of his clothes. Then she stops behind him, leaning against him, her breasts pressed against his back. "You know what I want," her voice is a whisper, trying to seduce him.

Norman is panting. He doesn't want to give in but… He walks over to the wall, unhanging the picture. There she is in the adjoining room, putting clean sheets on the bed. It's a king-sized bed; she has to crawl on it in order to reach everything, presenting him a perfect view of her backside.

"Don't look at her. You have me." It is happening more often lately. She becomes jealous of his real mother. Something he didn't expect, but it is exciting. The way she competes for him is a power trip. "You know you only want me." Her hand wanders down the front of his body, touching him through his pants.

He wants it and he does not, the words of his mother still preying on his mind, the vulnerable, candid way she looked at him still tearing at his heart. What he wants is wrong. He is bad.

"Get away from me!" Norman pushes her away, tumbling forwards in the process because despite the fact that he actually sees and feels her, his body seems to insist that he is punching air. He bumps into the desk, groaning with pain, when he notices the sheriff standing in the door frame.

"Everything ok in here?"

He must have yelled, the words not only an imagination.

"Yes, of course." Norman trembles with rage. At himself, at her. "Why wouldn't it be?"

"I thought I heard something." Romero looks around, detecting the picture that is standing on the floor. His gaze wanders up the wall above until it stops at the hole.

"What is..." Alex walks over to the wall, peeps through the hole, sees Norma, and turns around, facing Norman, barely able to control his anger. "You're such a sick..."

"I'm sorry," Norman cries. This is not how it was supposed to be. Yes, he wants to have her for himself, but it only seemed to be a good plan until she sat down with him and poured out her heart to him. Her words hit him to the core. That doesn't necessarily mean he will give up his plan, but right now… right now he doesn't know what to do or feel. All he knows is that he is toxic. "I didn't want… I would never want..." _...to hurt her._ The words won't come out. Norman is embarrassed. He is about to lose his composure and the last thing he needs is the sheriff as a witness.

"Norman." Romero raises a hand to calm him. He can't overcome his aversion to Norma's son enough to comfort, let alone hug him. However, he didn't expect this. Any of it. Not a peephole in the wall. The wall to the room where they made love before. He doesn't dare to think about the implications. But most of all he didn't expect this version of Norman. Regretful, human, likable, reminding him that he is, indeed, what he called him – sick. But not a sick bastard as he was about to say but a sick kid, no more than 18. He is not naive. Norman is dangerous, but for some reason his manipulative side is completely gone at the moment. "Are you ok?"

"No, I'm not. How could I? You said it yourself. I'm sick," Norman spits, his body convulsing with every word. Then he brushes past Alex, running off towards the house.

"Was that Norman?" Norma has come out of the room, apparently she heard their raised voices. "Is everything ok?"

Will there ever be a time at the Bates Motel when this question can be answered in the affirmative?

"I have to tell you something, Norma. Let's take that walk." Romero watches her posture slump down, her good mood gone in an instant because his tone of voice gave away that he has no good news. He hates that he has to do this, but they are running out of time and he has come to a decision. Finally.

* * *

"Say something."

They are halfway between the motel and White Pine Bay. It's a beautiful walk, but neither of them enjoys the landscape. As soon as the motel was out of sight, Romero told Norma what had happened at the police station, about the accusations and threats Emma's mother had made and the possible way out.

Norma has stopped walking. She is wearing her grey coat. It's his favorite. She looks even more beautiful in it and he loves the memory of their wonderful evening at the Winter Lights Festival where he saw her wear it for the first time. He doesn't like, though, that she is not talking. A silent Norma is dangerous and even more unpredictable than usual.

"Norma… say something," Alex repeats.

A slight hint of anger flits across her face. "What do you expect me to say? This woman acted bizarrely right from the start." Norma shakes her head. "I _knew_ she had something in mind." She tilts her head back, looking him over. "Do you really think they have something they can use against Norman?"

On one hand, this is working better than he feared. Norma didn't freak out when he explained that Emma's mother had accused Norman of trying to kill her. On the other hand, it doesn't sound as if Norma believes the accusation to be true either.

"I don't know," Romero admits. "Securing DNA evidence is not easy. Let alone securing it in a way so that it can be admitted as evidence in a murder trial."

Wrong choice of words. Norma flinches. Her expression changes, her eyes darken. "You think Norman did it, that he choked her."

"I saw no indication that Audrey Ellis was lying." Alex is careful. As civilized as their talk has been so far, he is very well aware that it carries the risk of a falling-out. This is Norma, after all, and they are talking about her beloved son she wants to protect at any cost. It's what she always has done.

Norma watches him for a long moment. Then she screws up her face and turns away from him, pain contorting her delicate features. There always was an explanation. Norman passed the polygraph test regarding his teacher's death; Bradley Martin had run away before and probably did it again, but this... Norma remembers their encounter in the basement shortly before Norman, more or less voluntarily, committed himself to Pineview. _Where did you put her? - Put who? - Woman with red hair, flowered scarf, big earrings. I know you had her in the freezer._ Deep down she knew back then, right in that moment, what must have happened. But it's so hard to accept it. Impossible.

Alex doesn't say anything, only reaches out and gently touches her arm to make her turn back around and look at him.

Tears shimmer in her eyes, "You really would resign and leave to protect Norman?"

"Ultimately I would do it for you, but yes, I would." As strong as Romero's urge was to send Norman to his doom after he had threatened him, he realized that he couldn't do it when he saw Norman's vulnerable side at the motel office. This kid needs professional help and shouldn't spend the rest of his life behind bars.

Norma takes a deep breath before she gets closer and embraces him. An inner calm floods through Alex. This is it. The decision. They will leave White Pine Bay. But then Norma releases him.

"We're not leaving."

"What?" He must have misheard that.

"We're not leaving White Pine Bay and you're not resigning. You are the sheriff. This is your town. You can fight them."

"Norma..."

She clasps his face with both of her hands. "Alex. If anyone can fight them, it's you. I don't want you to give up your life. And I came here to start over, not to run away. We can do this. Together." As usual, she is oblivious to danger, convinced that they can bend the world into the version she prefers to live in.

"It's too dangerous."

"You said yourself that they don't expect a decision until the end of the week. Three more days, Alex. Your whole life can change in a split second. You can find a way to fight them in three days. There must be people you trust, someone who can help you."

Norma's determination is powerful but even more powerful is the insight that her belief in him is so unswerving that she is willing to entrust the life of her son to him. Maybe she is right. Maybe he can find a way to fight his enemies. He didn't even consider that option, only worried about her.

"Two days," Alex gives in reluctantly. "If I don't find a way to handle it within the next two days, I will resign and we will leave."

"Yes, okay," she agrees.

"And Norma," he grabs her shoulders. "You and Norman have to lay low. No unnecessary risks."

"Okay, yeah, sure."

God, he loves this woman. She's so strong and fearless even if part of it is recklessness, he is aware of that. However... _It's all gonna be good._ Norma says that all the time, like a mantra. Here and now, Romero is almost convinced she is right.

His radio device crackles. "Sh…f Ro...ero ...are ...there?" Alex only understands scraps of conversation and has to adjust the frequency. This is weird since all their radio devices usually are pre-set on the same frequency to guarantee immediate communication in an emergency. They probably couldn't reach him on his cellphone. The area between motel and town has a lot of dead zones.

"Sheriff Romero?"

"I'm here."

"I think you should take a look at this. We found an abandoned car five miles out of town. License plate belongs to a Dylan Massett. Isn't that one of your stepsons?"

* * *

They walk back to the motel together so that he can get his SUV and drive to the place where they found Dylan's car or rather a vehicle that is supposed to be his car. Perhaps it's nothing but a mix-up even though Romero has an uneasy feeling. It is difficult to convince Norma to stay behind and not accompany him. Only when he reminds her of the situation and that she needs to stay with Norman to make sure he is safe, she eventually relents. They haven't talked about what to do regarding Norman. Another decision they have to make, no matter whether they will stay or leave. But as so often in their lives, too much is happening at once. First things first.

When he arrives at the scene, Romero is optimistic that it is, indeed, a mix-up because he has never seen that car before. Obviously Dylan bought a new car after they had moved, though, the information that he is the vehicle owner turning out to be correct. An abandoned car, neither Dylan nor Emma have called since they supposedly flew to Europe, and all they have is Norman's word that they dropped him off on their way to the airport. Either something happened after they'd dropped him off or… No, it's his brother and his best friend. There has to be another explanation.

"Call the Seattle police and ask for administrative cooperation," Alex instructs his deputies on-scene. "Have them check Dylan Massett's apartment. And check with the airport, too. I want to know if Dylan Massett and Emma Decody were on a flight to Europe." Dylan was an opponent once, a possible ally later on, but always Norma's son, never this, never a missing person.

* * *

It has started to snow. The roads are slippery, the drive back to the motel has taken longer than expected. When Alex arrives, dusk is already setting in. It has been a weird day and it is not over yet. First their talk about Norman, and now, he has to tell Norma more bad news about her other son. Even if they don't know anything for sure, the circumstances are odd to say the least.

Norma hasn't called him on his cellphone; Alex can only imagine the amount of restraint that must have cost her. However, she must have impatiently waited for his return because the moment he parks his car, the front door of the house opens and she comes his way down the steps.

Just as he is about to go to meet her, Alex notices a vehicle driving past the motel, slowing down in the process. That alone wouldn't have been suspicious, especially considering the weather conditions. Something about the car sets off the warning bells in his head though. It's a sedan, black, with tinted windows. The car is slowing down even more to walking pace; there is not that much snow on the street. Romero's hand hovers over his gun. He has been shot before, won't let it happen again. Given the circumstances, he doesn't leave the house without his equipment, not even on a day off.

"Alex!"

He hears Norma's voice behind him but doesn't react, focussed on the car.

One of the car doors opens and a body is thrown out on the street. Romero is close enough to recognize the face even before the body remains lying in the snow right in front of him. A face with a small, perfectly round bullet hole right in the middle of the forehead. And if it hadn't been for that, the lifeless eyes would have left no doubt that the woman is dead. Audrey Ellis.

The car has stopped, waiting for him to approach, the door closed again but one of the windows lowered a couple of inches. Someone wants to talk to him without being seen. Alex draws his gun as he steps closer albeit he is quite certain that whoever it is in that car is not here to kill him. You don't put so much effort in a dramatic scene and then kill the recipient. This is a message.

"You shouldn't have told your wife. Staying in White Pine Bay is no option. You need to accept that."

Romero is neither able to make out something inside of the car, nor does he recognize the voice, didn't expect any of it. He remains calm and collected on the surface; his mind, however, is running at full speed, connecting the dots. They must have done something to his radio device, changed it to a different frequency that allowed them to listen to his talk with Norma. His junior deputy had given him a new radio device on the pretext of his old one needing a battery exchange when he had been at the police station. He'd had no reason to question that; it is something they do on a regular basis. He should have questioned the man though. That junior deputy is new. He doesn't know him, shouldn't have trusted him. How stupid, how naive. They couldn't get to his cellphone, couldn't get into the house unnoticed either to bug it because Norman was there while they were gone; so they chose the simplest approach and hoped for the best. Audrey Ellis is dead because of him. Granted, she had gotten involved with the wrong people, but still. Maybe it was a bluff and they'd never had Norman's DNA in the first place. Whatever the case might have been, the moment they realized their threats against Norman didn't intimidate him sufficiently so that he would resign and leave, they apparently decided to set an example.

"Alex," Norma's voice sounds different, afraid.

He knows what is about to go down, an icy cold flooding through his body. Audrey Ellis' body was an unambiguous hint, but there is more to come. This time they need to make sure he will obey. And there is only one thing in the world intimidating him so much that he would do anything.

Everything seems to happen in slow motion although Alex whips around and starts running in one quick move, hoping against hope that he will be able to save her. But it is too late. Norma hasn't made it down the steps. They caught her halfway.

"Stop or I'll shoot her," the man holding a gun to her head commands as the other man points a gun at him.

Alex stops dead in his tracks, panting for breath. "LEAVE MY WIFE ALONE!"

He has never felt such rage, such fear. Common sense is miles away. He wants to kill these men, right here, right now, watch their blood pour out of them, tainting the snow. Instead he is doomed to look on helplessly as they drag Norma down the rest of the steps, half pushing, half pulling her towards the car, passing by so close that he could have reached out and touched her save that he can't do anything.

Norma's eyes are wide open, pleading with him, "I love you. Take care of Norman."

No. _No_. Her voice awfully sounds like the night she left him that message, as if this was goodbye. Alex wants to tell Norma that she shouldn't worry, that he will find and rescue her, but that would be tactically unwise. They need to believe that he will do as he was told.

"I love you. Everything will be ok."

She doesn't hear his words anymore; they have already pushed her into the car, the sound of the closing door leaving a deathly finality. Then the car picks up speed and is gone.

Alex hears a sound behind him, raising his gun as he turns around. It's Norman, standing on the steps, dazed, watching the car drive away. "Mother?"

* * *

To be continued


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N:** Thank you for your reviews and support. This includes all guests, of course: Wicked House, Jada, and the rest of you fabulous guys since I can't PM you to say thanks.

Some warnings to be on the safe side:

\- Minor trigger warning for rape. It's only mentioned; there is no actual rape.

\- Character death warning. It's not Norma or Alex though. I don't want you do worry.

 **Disclaimer:** Bates Motel and its characters belong to A &E. Lyrics excerpt from 'Tonight you belong to me' by Patience & Prudence.

* * *

Norma has lived through many shitty situations in her life, but she has never been held captive before. In a basement on top of that. She hates basements. Nothing good happens there.

She checked every cross-barred window, every dirty corner for a way out but found none. There is a guy outside of the basement door. His threat that he would shoot her right away if she didn't stop screaming and rattling at the door was a convincing argument to stop, leaving her with nothing to do than wait and see. Norma despises to be condemned to forced idleness.

If she interprets the fading light outside correctly, she has been trapped in here for more than 24 hours by now.

The door opens. A man comes in, looking down at her. There is nothing to sit on; so she is sitting on the floor. The food on the tray next to her is untouched. She is not hungry, hasn't eaten anything since they threw her in this hellhole. The man bends down and picks the tray up.

"Could I have a blanket?" Norma asks. "It's getting really cold at night."

She was wearing no coat when they caught her. The temperature outside is sub-zero and it's not much warmer in the cellar. Norma didn't sleep at all last night, fear and cold keeping her awake in equal measure.

The man just stares blankly at her before he turns around and leaves without a word.

Norma gazes at the closed door, a sudden rage boiling inside. "So I guess that's a no," she yells. "Have fun explaining to my husband, _the sheriff_ , that you let me freeze to death."

Instead of an answer, there is a bang against the door. "Shut up!"

"You shut up," she hisses, standing up to pace up and down in order to get warm.

The men are not wearing masks. It worries her. Shouldn't they wear masks so that she can't identify them? Then again, this is supposed to be a deal. That's how business works in White Pine Bay. Norma saw Audrey Ellis' body when they dragged her towards the car. For some reason, they decided to up the ante to make Alex give in to their blackmail. That's why they took her. So perhaps it doesn't matter that she saw their faces. They will go separate ways after this is over. If her husband decides to relent, that is. Norma doesn't know what Alex will do save that he will keep on and on until he has found and saved her. All she has to do is sit tight. She sighs. The only thing that worries her more than her current situation is the thought of Norman and Alex alone together. She just hopes they get along and no one will get hurt.

* * *

Life creates the weirdest alliances. If someone, _anyone_ , had told Romero a couple of weeks, hell, _days_ ago that he would be standing here, in the middle of the night, in the middle of nowhere, next to Norman Bates and Caleb Calhoun, ready to rescue his wife, he would have had a good laugh. As it is, these two men are the only ones he trusts right now. At least as far as their shared aim to find and save Norma is concerned. Beyond that? Not so much. But after what happened, he can't trust his deputies or anyone else in town at the moment.

The knowledge that an old friend of his will join them is a relief. Alex never would have thought that he would actually make that call one day. They served together, fought on the front line. He saved his friend's life. It just happened; his friend would have done the same for him. The medal of honor they invested him with lies in a drawer somewhere. While he decided to go back to his hometown, his friend is still military. Highly decorated, entrusted with confidential information. A man in a powerful position. Just the right person when you have no one else to turn to in a desperate situation. His friend had always been assuring him that he would help him no matter what if he needed a favor one day. However, Romero had never intended to make use of that offer until yesterday.

It's cold, but none of them feels it, adrenaline pumping through their veins. As soon as his friend will arrive, their rescue mission will start.

* * *

 _ **24 hours ago**_

"Mother?" Norman looks at the car that is speeding away as if he doesn't believe what he saw is real. Then he does something weird with his arm, checking for something, and screws up his face. "Did they really take her away?"

"Go into the house," Alex orders. There is no time to be gentle.

"What happened?" Norman doesn't move, his muscles tensing up. Romero has seen it before. Norman is getting angry and he is not good at controlling his rage. "Is that woman dead?" He points at Audrey Ellis' body with a shocked expression, showing no signs that he recognizes her in any way. "Why did they take my mother? Does it have something to do with you?" That kid is messed up but not stupid.

"Just go inside." Alex has to make sure Norman doesn't lose it and take care of the body before anyone detects it in passing.

"No," Norman yells. "I won't go anywhere as long as you haven't told me what is going on."

"So you know how to save her? Great! Then what do we do now? Huh? Tell me! You wanna be in charge? Go ahead!" Romero watches Norman tremble with suppressed fury. "No? You don't know? Then _go inside_ and we'll talk there." Just as he gets closer to push Norman up the steps, he turns around of his own accord, stamping upstairs like a stubborn child.

* * *

They are sitting at the kitchen table face to face. It is weird to sit there without Norma; they have never been alone in the house together before. Let alone that the entire situation feels surreal.

"Do you understand, Norman? I will save your mother, but you can't tell anyone what happened and you have to follow my orders."

The angry glance Norman darts at him, tells Alex that he would rather do anything but. However, Norman knows that he stands no chance to get his mother back on his own. He nods in this abrupt, strange way that is his trademark when he is unstrung, as if his head wasn't attached to the rest of his body properly and could fall off any moment.

The knock on the door startles both of them. Romero draws his gun.

"Stay here," he murmurs to Norman.

* * *

Sometimes it's just too much. A glass is full, it spills over. A man is exasperated, he snaps. It's an emotional act, accomplished before reason is able to catch up. Alex simply reacts to the visual trigger of the person he is confronted with. Someone he has imagined to kill in many different ways. In his book, he deserves death for what he did to Norma. Here and now, he doesn't kill him but thrust his fist into the man's face with full force.

"What the…?" Caleb stumbles back, spitting blood.

"What are you doing here? My wife wants nothing to do with you," Romero's voice is threateningly calm.

"Your…?" Caleb seems to have forgotten that Alex hit him and that he is heavily bleeding. "You and Norma are married?" Something close to happiness for his sister flits across Caleb's face before it is replaced by something else – wistfulness and a hint of jealousy.

Romero maintains his usual pokerface. Inside, he cringes though. This family is such a mess. Norma's son. Her brother. But this is not the time for revenge. He needs another ally aside from the weird kid that can space out into another blackout any time. Someone who will be as determined to find Norma as he is. Everything else has to wait. Alex grabs Caleb's jacket and pulls him inside.

"Get in here!"

* * *

"So, you call your friend and hope that he has ways and means to find the men who are behind this and to find Norma and then we bring her back," Caleb roughly sums up what Romero just told him.

"Something like that."

"Sounds like a plan."

Alex might hate that man's guts but in a situation like this, it will be useful to have him by his side. Caleb won't have any qualms about doing whatever will be necessary to save Norma.

"What do we do until then?" Caleb asks.

It's dark outside; it has gotten late.

"You two go to sleep, collect your strength. I'll make that call and then we wait."

As if on cue, Norman bolts, running up the stairs into his room. If there is one person, hating Caleb as much as Romero, it's him. Norman could barely stand to be in the same room with him. All in all, and given his mental problems, Alex is surprised, though, how well Norman handles the situation so far.

"You can sleep on the couch," Alex growls when Caleb looks at him, uncertain what the prompt to go to sleep means for him.

"Ok, thank you." Caleb gets up but then hesitates. "You must love my sister very much. She deserves that. Someone who loves her and treats her well."

Alex can't do that. He can accept Caleb as a temporary ally because he has to, but he can't talk to him as if they were friends. That man raped his wife.

Caleb watches him for another moment before he averts his eyes in shame. "You know," he states.

"Yes." Alex clenches his fists.

"I..." Caleb looks at the front door, obviously considering to leave. "I told her I'm sorry. I know this is something that can never be forgiven, but I..."

"Stop!" Alex raises his hand. "You are here because we need to find Norma. That is the only reason. As soon as we have found her..." He leaves open what will happen then because he simply doesn't know.

"Yeah, you're right," Caleb agrees but doesn't move, musing on something. "You plan to kill me afterwards?" He doesn't seem to be worried, just checking the facts.

"I don't know," Alex admits. The situation is surreal; this discussion is surreal. Caleb is right though. If it had been any other man who raped Norma, he wouldn't hesitate to kill him. But this is Norma's brother. She had loved him once before everything went to hell. "I don't know." Alex shakes his head, suddenly feeling very tired.

"Yeah… yeah," Caleb says as if he perfectly understood and maybe he does. Then he turns around, the darkness of the living room swallowing him up.

Three men under one roof, divided by their hate for each other, united by their love for the same woman.

* * *

 _ **Present**_

"There." Caleb juts his chin forward towards the road.

They are in the middle of a field somewhere, hidden by a clump of trees. It's pitch-black, the moon veiled in clouds. But Caleb is right. This man has instincts like a predator. A vehicle is approaching them. High speed, headlights turned off so as not to attract attention. It slows down as it comes closer, leaving the road and eventually stopping between the trees. A man gets out.

"Alex," his friend greets him, dressed in black as they all are, save that he is already wearing his balaclava. The fact that he is here doesn't mean that he will allow anyone to see his face. As far as the official storyline goes, this never happened.

"Thanks for coming." Romero bows back to him. No names.

The house in which Norma supposedly is held is approximately half a mile away. It's the only house around here. It took Alex's friend less than twelve hours to find the men behind Norma's kidnapping and only another few hours to locate her whereabouts.

"We have to act fast," the man says. "The head is cut off, but the body is still moving."

Alex doesn't ask if the words are to be taken literally, doesn't care whether the masterminds are dead or simply rendered harmless as long as it brings him closer to his aim to save Norma.

"How many?" he asks.

"Five in the house, keeping her under guard. Five more on their way here. We have 15 minutes max."

"Then let's go." Romero hands a radio device to Norman as the others cover the car with leaves and branchwood. "Hide in the ditch over there and give us a warning when you see another car approach."

"No. I'm coming with you," Norman insists.

"Norman." Alex grabs his shoulders and notices him flinch from the physical contact. "Don't get me wrong, but you can't come with us. You are not battle seasoned and would be in the way. If you want to help save your mother, then you have to stay here and be our outpost. We need eyes out here to know what's going on."

He would have preferred to leave Norman at the motel, would even have locked him up if necessary, but what if their rescue mission will fail? What if no one will return? He couldn't risk to let Norman rot there. There is no way, though, that he will let him accompany them to the house. They are outnumbered either way and he can't take care of Norman in the middle of a fight to the death. Let alone that Norma would kill him if something happened to her son.

Norman still is indecisive and angry, but he knows that he would be a burden for their rescue mission and ultimately endanger its success. As much as he hates the sheriff and Caleb, he is aware that they outmuscle him, that his mother's life depends on their experience in the field and their physical strength. He snatches the radio device and walks over to the ditch, pressing his fingers into the wound on his upper arm to remind himself to stay in the present and not lose it. Norman even took a regular dose of his medication this morning and didn't flush most of it down the toilet as usual. He has to hang on until they will have found and saved his mother.

* * *

 _Thump_. Norma has almost fallen asleep when the sound startles her. She hears it again. _Thump_. Something is happening, right above her head. She stands up, listens. There is running, shouts.

The door to the basement opens with a bang.

"Come here!"

She has never seen that man before. How many of them are in the house?

"What is going on?"

"I said..." He spurts downstairs, grabbing her arm. "… come here!" The man drags her along behind him upstairs. One hand holds her upper arm in a painful grip, the other holds a gun.

Right in front of the door to the basement lies a body in a pool of blood. Norma gasps.

"Zip it!" the man hisses.

The lights are off, the rooms in semi-darkness, illuminated only by moonlight here and there. Norma doesn't see anything, bumping against furniture or door frames as the man continues his seemingly haphazard journey through the house. It's silent save for their heavy breathing until there is the unmistakable sound of someone cocking a gun right next to them.

"Let her go!"

Norma would recognize this voice anywhere. And it has never sounded so sweet. This is the voice of freedom.

"Alex," she whispers.

Just as her captor is about to loosen his grip on her arm, there is another gun getting cocked right where Alex's voice came from.

"I don't think so," a bodiless voice says.

Norma can't make out anything in the dark, but it's clear that there is a stand-off. No one moves; she holds her breath. Then the crackle of a radio device breaks the silence.

"They are coming."

Norma can't suppress a wail. _Norman_. That was Norman warning them. She is so happy to hear his voice, but at the same time it scares her to death. Fearing for her own life has been bad; this is even worse. Her husband and her son are both here, risking their lives for her.

Then everything follows in quick succession.

She hears a car outside, approaching the house fast, as the man holding her suddenly groans loudly with pain before he lets go of her and slumps. Norma is free.

"Alex?" she whispers again, hesitant to move or reach out in the dark.

Out of nowhere, two hands seize her. Norma winces, trying to tear herself away from another potential threat, until she hears his voice, soothingly murmuring into her ear, "Shhh… It's me. I'm here." Alex puts his arms around her, holding her tight. "Are you ok? Did they hurt you?"

"No, I'm fine. I'm so glad you're here. I knew you'd come." Norma blindly fumbles around, the need to touch him and assure herself that it's really him overwhelming.

"Careful," Alex warns when she brushes his gun accidentally but holds her even tighter.

Outside, the car has stopped. Doors open and close. There is a brief hushed conversation before footsteps approach the house.

Romero gently pushes Norma away. Only now she realizes that he is not alone. There is someone with him. No, not only someone; there are two other men.

"Norman?" she asks at random although she still can't believe her husband brought her son along. It's much too dangerous; she will whip him later.

"Get her out of here," Alex orders.

One of the men steps closer. Judging from his physique, he is a muscle-bound hunk. She can't see his face due to the dark and the fact that they are all wearing balaclavas as Norma notices when a beam of moonlight illuminates the room for a brief moment. These men are on her side, but the way they are dressed is frightening and makes the scenery even more disturbing.

"What? No, wait!" Norma defends herself vigorously, forgetting to keep her voice down in the process when the man takes her arm and pulls her away from her husband. "I won't leave without you! And where's Norman?" The glance at the two other men was sufficient to distinguish that neither of them is her son.

"LEAVE NOW," Alex shouts.

It's no use to remain quiet. The men already knew they are in here and Norma's voice gave away their location. There is a hissing next to her head as Alex's companion, obviously done with her resistance, clasps her waist, basically taking her under his arm. Only when there is more hissing, even closer, ending with soft pops into the wall, Norma understands that the men are shooting at them. It was much too close. Alex was standing right next to her. What if he got hit?

"No, no," she pleads as the man half-drags, half-carries her outside through the back exit. It feels like getting kidnapped another time. "Al…," she breaks off in mid-word, a rough hand covering her mouth, making it difficult to breathe.

Deep down a tingle starts to set in, a knowledge she has denied so far. Something about this man is familiar, especially now that his hand covers her mouth and she can smell his skin. No, that's not possible.

* * *

The freezing cold outside soaks through Norma's clothes, but the cold is not the only reason why she has started to shiver. The man had been carrying her as if she weighed nothing before he suddenly dropped her, pushing her behind some bushes. They are still quite close to the house. It's the only hideout far and wide though. Everything else is flat field, everyone in the open an easy target.

The man lies next to her on the ground. She already knows, but she has to be sure, looking at him as he pulls off his balaclava, light blue eyes staring back at her that resemble her own. He apologized; they reconciled if something like that is possible given the circumstances. Ever since she left home as a teenager, they have never been alone together though, let alone in such isolation. Norma feels her pulse quicken and takes a deep breath in an effort to calm herself. She can do this, did it many times during those years when she used to wake up from the same nightmare again and again

More shots are being fired inside the house, startling her. Norma spies through the branches of the bush but can't see anything.

"He will be ok," Caleb tries to soothe her, touching her shoulder.

Norma reacts before she even realizes what she is doing, backing away from him, trying to get up in the process. He is too close; she can't stand it.

"Norma! Stay down!" Caleb pulls her back on the ground.

On a rational basis, Norma is aware that Alex, Caleb, and even Norman must have made a pact, that Caleb is here to help her. However, the images of a young Caleb holding her down, forcing her to have sex with him keep flooding back. For a brief moment she can't move, can't breathe, feels like a little girl again – weak, powerless, completely and utterly at his mercy. Then her fight-or-flight response kicks in.

"Don't touch me!" She keeps trying to get up, her voice too loud in the cold night air.

"Be quiet and stay down! They'll see you!"

The more she struggles, the more he pushes her down. Her face is pressed into the frozen mud, his body half on top of hers.

"Norma stop, please!"

She hears the desperation in his voice. But she can't stop, claws and fights because that's what she always has done. No one has ever helped her save the man inside the house who probably is already dead. Norma doesn't realize she is crying or that she is saying the same thing over and over.

"Don't hurt me! Please don't hurt me!"

Suddenly the weight of Caleb's body is lifted from her and she jumps up like a loose spiral spring, swaying, uncertain what to do next.

"I'm sorry! I'm so sorry! I would… I will never hurt you again. Just let me protect you." Caleb kneels next to her in the dirt, reaching out to her but not touching her.

A loud noise makes both of them turn around. Caleb springs to his feet immediately, stepping in front of Norma so that he is shielding her with his body. Two men have come out of the house, running towards them. In the darkness, it's impossible to make out who it is or see the gun pointed at them. When they hear the shot, it's already too late.

Caleb tumbles against Norma and falls down, his weight pulling her to the ground with him. She feels a warm liquid pour over her icecold hands.

There is another shot, a shadowy figure going down only a few steps away from her, before the moonlight reveals that there is only one person still running towards them. Funny how she didn't know until now that she can tell it's him by the way he runs.

"Norma!" Alex kneels down next to her. "Have you been shot?" He has seen the blood on her hands and frantically feels her in order to find the bullet wound.

"It's not my blood. It's Caleb's."

Only now Alex realizes that Caleb is lying there on his back, gasping for breath.

"We should take him to a hospital," Norma's voice is shaking.

It's a shot in the stomach. From what Alex can tell, Caleb has already lost a lot of blood, too much blood to make it to a hospital. Norma sees the truth in his eyes.

"It's… ok…," Caleb wheezes. He knows as well.

Nothing is ok. When she was little, Norma used to love her brother more than anyone else in the world. Then she hated him and thought she had forgotten how it felt to love him for good. Turns out he only needs to die to make her remember. She feels dizzy. It's too much.

Caleb gasps for breath some more, his hand reaching for hers. Norma takes it. His skin always has been rough, even when he was a boy, but his touch always was tender save that one time when he destroyed everything she had ever believed in. And now he took a bullet for her.

"I'm here," she says.

Caleb tries to say something in return, but blood comes out of his mouth instead.

"Don't talk. Just…" Norma starts to cry.

Alex has pulled off his jacket and put it around her shoulders to keep her warm. She doesn't feel the cold anymore, though, doesn't know what to do or say. Norma was prepared never to see her brother again, to hate him for the rest of her life, but not for this. And whenever life fails her, Norma relies on music. She starts to sing quietly, a hauntingly beautiful sound in the middle of this nightmare.

 _Although we're apart, you're part of my heart and tonight you belong to me._

 _Way down by the stream, how sweet it will seem, once more just to dream in the moonlight._

Despite the pain, a smile appears on Caleb's face and he clutches Norma's hand even tighter.

It doesn't take long. Not even until the end of the song. Caleb's hand goes limp as the melody they both loved as children fades away and is replaced by an eerie silence.

* * *

"I had to stay with my friend," Alex explains why it was Caleb who took her outside.

When he ran after the man out of the house, they had already taken out the rest of them. His friend is clearing up the scene right now, getting rid of any evidence that could incriminate them. It had been the plan all along that Caleb would be the one taking Norma outside once they found her. Alex hated it but had no other choice. He couldn't expect his friend to help him and then leave him to himself. But Norma doesn't listen to his explanation. Her ability to compose herself never ceases to amaze him. Her brother just died and while he ponders on how to cart the body off later to get him a proper funeral, the only thing on Norma's mind is her son.

"I can't believe you left him in a ditch. Alone, at night, in this freezing cold," Norma scolds Alex as if Norman was ten years old and it hadn't been a rescue mission to save her life.

"Mother?" A brown-haired head pops up and Norman climbs out of the ditch rather ungracefully, however determined to get to his mother as quickly as possible.

"Watch out," Alex murmurs as Norman flings his arms around Norma, but he might as well not exist for Norman, now that he has his mother back.

There is a brief, weird moment when Norman discovers traces of blood on Norma's hands.

"What did you do?" he asks suspiciously.

Only now Norma seems to remember what happened, allowing herself to grieve.

"It's Caleb," she says in tears. "He got shot. He's dead."

Norman appears to be relieved rather than sad albeit he basically non-reacts, but Norma doesn't seem to notice or mind.

"Let's go home," she states, still holding on to Norman and at the same time reaching out to Alex. "I'm so proud of you two."

Alex has a broken rib, Norma some bruises, but they are together and alive.

The nightmare is over. Finally.

* * *

To be continued

 _Is the nightmare really over? We'll see..._

 _One more thing: I'm still uncertain about Norma singing when Caleb dies. I kind of like it (obviously, otherwise it wouldn't have ended up in that scene although this largely might be because I always like it when Norma sings). However I'm worried that it might have been too sappy. So let me know what you thought if you feel like it. Thanks._


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N:** Thank you for your reviews and PMs, especially regarding Caleb's death and how Norma handled it. That also goes for you, Wicked House. :)

This is kind of a transitional chapter to get back in the flow of the story as it was before the crazy action break of the last chapters.

The usual **disclaimer** applies.

* * *

It has been a good week. Well, good is a relative term. What is good or bad is defined by our fears and hopes. So the week has been good in so far as no one has been kidnapped or murdered. There have been no incidents regarding Norman either. No threats behind Norma's back, no tantrums. They even had breakfast and dinner together several times. The events involving Norma's violent abduction and her rescue have shaken all of them to the very foundations. Norman as well as Alex simply are happy and grateful to have her back, the truce in the aftermath a logical consequence. Save that it's nearing its end. Alex can feel it, a slight shift in the air like an approaching cyclone.

Today was Caleb's funeral. It was just the three of them as the priest gave the usual eulogy. They are back home now, had arrived just in time right before the heavy snowstorm started. The world outside is a blurry light gray; you can't even see the motel anymore. Norman immediately went to his room whereas Norma decided to keep herself busy in the kitchen, doing the dishes to distract herself. She declined Alex's help; so all he can do is stand idly by to at least be with her. Norma's relationship with her brother was ambiguous to put it mildly. That doesn't mean she doesn't grieve though. Alex watches her brush the one or other tear away angrily.

"You're allowed to grieve, no matter what happened between the two of you," he says.

"That's big of you," Norma snaps but pulls herself together within a moment. She sighs, giving him a wry smile. "Sorry. None of this is your fault. Not what happened between Caleb and me, not the way he died. It's just… I've spent so many years hating him and now… I don't know what to feel." She dries her hands on a towel, preoccupied in thought. "Did he say why he came here?"

"No, and I… I had other things on my mind. I didn't ask."

"Yeah, you had to find a way to save me." This time the smile Norma gives Alex is a happy one that reaches her eyes. "And you did. I knew you would." The level of trust she puts in him chokes Alex. There were times when lying to him was as easy for her as breathing, when he was the enemy. Those days are long gone.

Norma shrugs. "He probably came because I'd called him during that Chick situation. Caleb always knows… _knew_ when something was wrong." She takes a deep breath. "Dylan should have been at his funeral."

It is the first time she mentions Dylan after his abandoned car was found shortly before her kidnapping. Alex has put Norma's ignorance of that specific topic down to the terrible experience and its aftermath. It hasn't been easy to keep things to himself, but there never has been the right moment so far. Not that there ever could be a right moment for something like that.

"About that…," he says reluctantly. "The police checked his apartment. There was no one there."

"Well, of course not," she responds agitatedly. "They are in Europe."

"They found traces of blood in the apartment. Not enough to be worried, could be something harmless. There have been no further investigations or forensics yet."

"Why would they investigate?" Norma's usual defense mechanisms are setting in. "Why forensics? You make it sound like..."

"They never left the country, Norma. Their names were on no passenger list; they never even bought a ticket. Dylan and Emma are… They've disappeared."

Norma leans against the sink as if her body suddenly lacked the energy to stand upright by its own efforts. "What do you mean _disappeared_? They didn't _disappear_. They are… They..." She puts her hand against her chest in an effort to calm her breathing.

Alex reaches out to gently grab her arm and steady her. "Norma, we..."

"I don't want to talk about that now." She practically flees out of the room and he lets her.

* * *

They have to talk about it eventually, but she buried her brother today, and all things considered, this is not the best time to bring up another problem. Then again, when will ever be the right time given that chaos always seems to swirl around her?

Alex listens to Norma doing the laundry in the adjoining room. More distractions so that she does not have to think about her sons. It's still heavily snowing outside, as if nature has decided to cloister them away from the rest of the world.

He remembers how Norma practically collapsed in a sort once they'd come home that fateful night after her rescue. Never before had she let him take care of her like that. She let him put her to bed, didn't insist on making dinner or on anything else that was her usual coping mechanism. Only then he realized that the recent events had taken a heavier toll on her than he had been aware of. The Norman situation, her kidnapping, her reencounter with Caleb, let alone the unsolved Dylan situation. It would have been too much too handle for anyone, and now that they were married, she apparently allowed herself a break, if only for one night, knowing that he was there to take care of things. After he had tucked her in and brought her some tea, she looked at him like a forlorn child.

"Can you get Norman?" she asked.

And Alex went to Norman's room without further ado and knocked; something that never would have occurred to him otherwise but felt almost normal given the circumstances. Mother and son just had survived a life-threatening situation. It was natural that she wanted to see him. Norman immediately walked over to his mother as if he had expected her invitation. When Alex followed Norman into their bedroom, he saw how Norma gently pushed her son back because he had been about to lie down on the bed behind her.

"No, no, not like that," she murmured. "Just sit here and stay with me for a while, will you?"

And that's what Norman did. He sat on the bed next to his mother, holding her hand until she fell asleep. Then he went back to his room silently and Alex got in bed with his wife, holding her in her sleep to keep the demons away.

So when he got the call the next day about Dylan, Alex decided not to tell her straightaway. Norma is a strong woman, but it would have been too much. Yes, the cop inside him wanted to instigate further investigations, had a prime suspect that was living under the same roof. The husband, though, decided to let it go for now. Alex didn't tell anyone that Norman must have been the last to see Dylan and Emma, that he had told them they dropped him off on their way to the airport. Despite everything, Norman's story could be true. Dylan and Emma could have planned to buy tickets at the airport, something could have happened to them right after they dropped Norman off. It's not plausible, too unlikely; usually the simplest explanation is accurate. On the other hand, things are never clear when it comes to Norman. Is he actually a murderer or just a victim of an unfortunate series of events? Even if Alex believed Emma's mother when she told him Norman had tried to kill her, he could be wrong. In the end that was only another accusation that led nowhere, just like the previous ones.

That reasonable doubt is the root of Alex's inaction. If he is wrong and accuses Norman of something he didn't do, it will drive a wedge between him and Norma that might cause irreversible damage, albeit on some days, this almost feels like the better option because if he is right, Norma has to face the fact that not only one of her sons is a murderer but that he killed his brother. That would break every mother's heart.

It's funny. Now that things in town have been cleared up, it is once more obvious that their personal circumstances have been the eye of the storm all along. Alex hasn't gone back to work as yet. He needs to protect his wife, won't leave her alone with her son. Norma is so in denial and on edge that she either hasn't noticed until now or prefers not to point it out. He assumes the latter. Either way, he will give her some more time to recover herself, but things can't go on like that forever.

* * *

Norma sorts the laundry. Anything to keep her mind off the dark places it is inevitably drawn to. This is not only about Norman anymore; her need to protect him has defined all her life. This is about both of her sons. The thought that something could have happened to Dylan, right now that they are on good terms, and that Norman might somehow be involved… Norma straightens herself. _Don't go there! Don't think about it!_ She takes a deep breath. She can do this. This is just another obstacle that will pass.

She has sorted clothing without even discerning the single pieces. Now that she has paused, she looks down at the teeshirt she is holding in her hands. It is one of Norman's save that he hasn't worn it since he came back; she is pretty sure of that. So why is it in the laundry? Norma takes a closer look, feeling a rough spot. It's dark and looks like… She almost drops the shirt, gasping. _They found traces of blood in the apartment_ , she remembers Alex's words. Norma knows what dried blood looks like. She wishes she wouldn't, but several situations in life taught her that. A nosebleed after a slap in the face from her father, gushing blood from stab wounds she inflicted on Keith Summers.

The images appear in her mind's eye, merciless and fast, overlapping with a new image, one she hasn't actually seen. Dylan covered in blood, his eyes wide open, staring but not seeing anything anymore. _No._ It's a stifled plea. Norma suppresses a sob, aware that Alex is in the next room and would hear her otherwise. He turned on the TV, is giving her time and space to deal with the situation in her own way. Alex is the best husband she could have ever wished for; the thought crosses her mind in an almost childish gratefulness. Moments like these are the reason she believes that she doesn't deserve him, not his love, not the safety his presence brings along. All she carries along is pain; all she has contributed to her marriage are burdens.

Norma puts the shirt down with shaking hands. As much as she wants to, she can't look away from this, can't run, can't hide. Everything else – the abandoned car, the blood in the apartment – happened outside of this house and Norma learned long ago that it is very well possible to ignore things that happened somewhere else, no matter how important other people might think these things are. But this… this shirt, this blood… these things are _inside_.

She slowly walks upstairs, noticing that Alex turns down the volume of the TV when he hears it. He is watching her and Norman's every move; she is aware of it. At first Norma thought he merely had taken a couple of days off to be with her while she was recovering from those horrible events. And perhaps that was the initial reason. He didn't return to work after that though. Alex distrusts Norman, suspects him even. He stays at home with her because he is afraid Norman will hurt her. Part of her resents it, part of her is glad he is there.

"Norman?" She knocks on his door. Maybe he is already asleep. He didn't want to attend Caleb's funeral, only was there for her. The day has tired out all of them.

But he opens the door. "Mother, everything ok?" The concern in Norman's face is real. The moment Norma sees it, she is convinced that there will be a simple, silly explanation for the blood on his shirt. One that doesn't involve his brother.

"Norman, I… um, I have to ask you something." She slips into his room, closing the door behind her. "How did you get blood on your shirt?"

Norman looks at her confused. He has no idea what she is talking about.

"Your shirt. The one you put in the laundry. There's blood on it, but I haven't seen you wear it since you came back and so I was wondering… How did you get blood on it?" Norma is talking fast. She is impatient, can't wait to get this over with.

"Oh… that," Norman says, clearly remembering now. "I have no idea. It must have been dirty already when I packed it. That's why I put it in the laundry. I once cut myself when I helped Dylan and Emma make dinner. Maybe that's what the blood is from." He studies her. "You shouldn't do laundry today, mother. You should rest. It was a tough day."

He is the best son in the world. Norman hated Caleb, and yet, he is so compassionate. There's no way he is involved in Dylan's and Emma's disappearance. Norma feels relieved and spurred at the same time. She will tell Alex to investigate, to find them.

"Ok, honey, I will rest and you should, too. Or are you hungry? I can make you a sandwich if you're not hungry enough for dinner. I think none of us is today."

Norma has already turned around, about to head out, when she senses that something is wrong. She turns around again. "Norman?"

He stares at her, his expression distorted by fear, his hand reaching out for her but afraid to actually touch her.

"Mother! Don't move!"

* * *

To be continued

 _Sorry for the cliffhanger, but I am so behind my writing schedule and that felt like a good moment to end the chapter and post it even if you might hate me a bit right now._


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N:** Ok, according to your reviews I am officially evil, haha (yeah, Wicked House, I'm also referring to you ;)). Sorry that the ending of the last chapter was kind of a mean cliffhanger. I hope this chapter will make up for it although the first part of it felt like a mind f*ck writing it, don't know how else to put it. I think you will understand when you read it and I really, really hope it's not (too) confusing. *fingers crossed* Enjoy!

The usual **disclaimer** applies.

* * *

This is not how it was supposed to be.

He took the medication while he was staying at Pineview, the main premise being that he wanted to get better despite the way he had been forced to commit himself. But his mother betrayed him, replaced him by marrying the sheriff, and one thing followed the other. First the realization that he wouldn't be able to convince his mother to leave her husband. Then the necessity to reduce his medication in order to be with one version of her at least, even if it wasn't the real one. It seemed to be a good plan to bridge the time until he would have found a way to get rid of the sheriff. He didn't expect that version of his mother to develop a life of her own, though, not to such an extent. She is jealous as hell. It was fun at the beginning, thrilling even, but at some point their balance of power shifted. He lost control and is still struggling to get it back.

The sheriff probably believes that it is the aftermath of his mother's abduction that has made him retreat and not pursue his threats anymore. In a way he is right. The moment he saw his mother being pushed into that car, he had a sense of déjà vu, was reminded of the evening she had packed a suitcase and left, the same feeling of dread suffusing him. The main reason for his restraint is another though. The day after they had rescued his mother, Norman woke up with a knife at his throat.

"How does that feel?" she purred.

Norman knew she wasn't real, didn't need to touch his arm to confirm the cut wasn't there. His mother, his _real_ mother, would never hold a knife to his throat. She'd rather cut her hand off. But there she was – looking like her, talking like her, even smelling sweet like her, the weight of her upper body pressing him into the mattress. So albeit he was aware that she was a figment of his imagination, the experience was real.

"What are you doing?" He tried to push her away, but she only laughed at him, not retreating an inch.

"What are _you_ doing?" she imitated him. "Sitting on her bed, holding her hand until she falls asleep. Awww… that's so sweet." The tone of her voice dripped with sarcasm. "You should have been with _me_ ," she then hissed, her mood suddenly changing, anger scratching the surface. "But you waste your time worrying about her instead. She was kidnapped because of her stupid husband. She doesn't care about you, only cares about him. And _you_ … you still pine for her. You are a pathetic sight." Contempt convulsed her beautiful features.

She jumped up, the knife cutting his skin due to the sudden movement. Norman felt a trickle of blood drip down his throat as he watched her pace the room. Then she stopped as sudden as she had jumped up, staring at him.

"Who do you love?"

"What?" he rasped.

She stepped closer, her demeanor menacing. "It's a simple question, Norman," she said, clearly annoyed. Her patience was about to run out any moment. " _Who_ do you _love_? _Her_ or _me_?"

Norman swallowed. It wasn't supposed to be a choice. Yes, she was meant to be a replacement because he couldn't have the real deal, but…

She lunged at him, the knife back at his throat. "I'm not a replacement!"

If he hadn't been already rendered immobile by the knife at his throat, her words would have done that. Was she able to read his thoughts? Instead of an answer she just smiled at him sphinxlike.

"Norman, are you awake? Do you want to have breakfast with us?" The knock on his door made him flinch. And just like that she was gone.

It got worse the following days. Suddenly she was everywhere. Leaning against the sink when they were having breakfast or dinner, silently mocking the happiness of his mother and the sheriff, exposing it as the fraud it was. It was supposed to be funny save that it wasn't because Norman never knew what to expect next. And then she started threatening his mother. Casually played with a knife when he was sitting on the couch with her, watching a movie, or turned on the gas range when his mother was standing too close as if she wanted to burn her. It scared him to death. Enough that Norman decided to increase his medication to make her disappear, only to realize that there were no more pills left to take. He needs a new prescription, but he isn't seeing a doctor at the moment. His mother had talked to him in between before the entire kidnapping madness took place, that he needed to go and see Dr. Edwards now that he was back home, but given the circumstances she seems to have forgotten about it, at least for the time being.

And now this.

He doesn't even remember why his mother came into his room or what they were talking about because just when she was about to leave, _she_ appeared right behind her with the favorite weapon of her choice. A knife so sharp that it sparkles with every twist and turn and looks as if it could easily cut right through the sensitive skin of his mother to her bone.

Norman is terrified, uttering the words before he can suppress them, "Mother! Don't move!"

She turns around, immediately concerned. "Norman? What's going on?"

His gaze is focused on a spot right next to her head. It's her and it isn't. The beauty of her twin is tainted with a sinister evilness.

"Do you love me?" she mouths.

"Yes," he is eager to assure her although it couldn't be further from the truth right now. Anything to make her stop threatening his mother.

"Norman?" His mother steps closer, looking over her shoulder at the empty spot he has fixated his attention on, then back at him. "Who are you talking to?"

She doesn't like that his mother is moving, let alone that she is approaching him. "Liar…," she spits, reading his thoughts once again.

Norman feels dizzy. How is he supposed to fight her if she is always one step ahead of him? He closes his eyes, trying to empty his mind. _She's not real. She's not real. She's not real._

"Let's see who's real or not!"

The voice is a tornado in his head, forcing Norman to open his eyes again only to see her raise the knife, about to stab his mother.

"No!" Norman lunges at his mother to protect her.

* * *

It happens so fast that Norma has no time to stop him or to get out of the way. Norman grabs her, pushing her aside. They both stumble, almost falling down due to the momentum of his action.

"Norman! What are you doing?"

Norma supports herself against the wall, only a couple of inches more and they both would have crashed against it. She listens for any signs that Alex might have heard what happened but even if he had turned the volume down when she had went upstairs, the TV seems to have been loud enough to cover up what just happened. That hideous monstrosity at least served one purpose.

"Norman?" She clasps his face with both of her hands to make him look at her, his eyes jumping back and forth; he is not in the here and now. "Norman!" Norma grabs his shoulders, shaking him gently.

It has to be another blackout, save that she has never witnessed her son talk to someone who isn't there. She knows he has hallucinations, but it is different to be present when they take place. That never has happened before and was scary. Norma's heart aches at the thought that his condition might be getting worse. They need to make another appointment with Dr. Edwards as soon as possible.

Norman's expression slowly becomes clear. "Mother?" he mumbles confused.

"I'm here," she soothes him, putting her arms around him. "You had a bad episode, but it's ok now. We should call Dr. Ed..."

She flinches as he pushes her away, eyeing her suspiciously. "Where's the knife?"

"What knife? There is no knife, Norman."

"Are you real?" He takes a step back, looking so desperate and forlorn that it tugs at her heartstrings.

"Of course, I'm real. It's me, Norman. Everything is ok. Calm down."

"Nothing is ok. You're not going to hurt her. Do you hear me? Where did you hide the knife?"

He starts to search the room frantically, discounting some items from his desk in the process.

"Norman, stop it!" Norma orders. Usually he listens to her authoritative voice but not today, his movements becoming more and more frenzied.

Her son is turning into someone else right in front of her, painfully reminding Norma of that fateful night down in the basement. Norman had a gun back then, not a knife. It is his unpredictability that scares her the most. He has always had blackouts, but they used to follow a familiar pattern whereas their progression has made him completely incalculable, something she had hoped the medication would have taken care of. A thought worms his way into her mind. What if there actually is a knife in here somewhere? And what if he finds it?

Fear has Norma standing rooted to the spot. In the end, though, determination wins. She can't allow another meltdown to take place, can't allow Alex to notice what is going on. The last thing they need is another confrontation. Things were just simmering down. Norma hesitatingly approaches Norman. He has calmed down a bit, his movements not as frantic anymore. If only she could get through to him. She reaches out, running her fingers through his hair. Norman trembles, his eyes one moment focused on her face only to get this detached expression the next that tells her he is anywhere but here.

"Shhh… it's ok, honey."

Despite her touch and her comforting words, Norman's breathing is getting fitful again, implying that another tantrum is coming up. Norman is a grown up man by now; there is no way Norma will be able to physically overpower him to stop him. Right on cue, Norman wrestles himself free.

"Please stop," she begs.

If Alex witnesses another violent outbreak of her son, he won't rest until Norman is back at Pineview. That is not the life Norma wants. A happy marriage is only one piece of the puzzle; she needs Norman to be the other one. But he is relentless, drifting into the abyss; she can see it, his eyes darkening, getting this expression that scares her the most. The one he had when he accused her of murdering Blair Watson, Bradley Martin and his father; she will never be able to forget that.

Norman makes another reckless move, knocking the chair in front of his desk down in the process. Norma doesn't think, she acts. Handle the situation, deal with the consequences later, that's how she always has lived her life and there is only one thing left to do that might make him come around. The last resort. She plants a kiss on Norman's lips. It's not a lover's kiss but a kiss out of love, born out of desperation. Norma feels Norman holding his breath. _Yes_ , she thinks. _Come back to me, please._

She doesn't hear Alex barge into the room, too focused on Norman, doesn't see her husband gasp for air when he witnesses his wife kissing her son.

"What the hell are you doing, Norma?" The tone of Alex's voice is hostile, accusatory.

Norma whips round to face her husband, the look on his face hurting her even more than his reproachful words. He is disappointed, revolted by what he saw. She wants to say something, but the words won't come, not even his name to hold him back when he bolts out of the room.

* * *

It only takes Norma a few seconds to pull herself together and run after her husband.

"Alex, wait!"

He is standing in the hallway, his hand stretched out halfway for his jacket. Her heart skips a beat. He is leaving her.

"Don't leave. Please."

After what feels like forever, he slowly turns around.

"What the hell was that, Norma?"

His words, this, it's an exact replication of the moment before she told him about Caleb. Norma is trembling. The truth worked then, maybe it will work again.

"I didn't know how else to stop him," she admits.

"Stop him from what?"

"From freaking out. I was afraid you would hear him and..."

"And what, Norma?" Alex interrupts her angrily. "Make sure nothing happens to you? Because that's the _only_ _thing_ I seem to be doing since… I can't even remember. But you just won't let me." He takes a deep breath. "In the end he always wins, doesn't he?"

There is a finality in his statement, a resignation in his voice that make Norma's stomach turn.

"No, that's not true."

"Then how come you told me not long ago that using your son's attraction to you was wrong and then I see you doing exactly that. I mean, who knows. Maybe it wasn't even the first time you kissed him to calm him down."

His remark catches her off-guard; he sees the guilt in her eyes before she is able to hide it.

"Jesus, Norma." Alex shakes his head. "I could accept what happened with you and Caleb because he was your past, but this… This is our presence, our marriage. I can't live like that."

"Alex, please..."

Norma steps closer, reaching out for him. She can feel him slipping away from her and can't allow that. Norma needs to be close to the people she loves, emotionally and literally. It's her way of trying to prevent that they leave her. Most of them do it, anyway.

The tender but strong hands of her husband are relentless though. Alex pushes her away from him. Norma tears up; he has never done that before.

"Please Alex..."

She can make this right. She always finds a way. He only has to let her.

But not this time.

"Just leave me alone."

* * *

It's not that late but the persisting snowstorm outside and the silence in the house give the impression as if it was the middle of the night.

Norma has been staying in their bedroom during the last couple of hours. She hasn't heard or seen anything from Norman who is in his room, and for the first time, hasn't felt the need to check on him either. Alex is downstairs. She expected to hear the front door when he left, but he didn't. Whatever that means.

In the end she musters all of her courage and tiptoes downstairs.

The living room is dark; it takes Norma's eyes a moment to adjust and spot Alex. He is sitting there dead still, a bottle of Scotch in front of him, but as far as she can tell, it's still full, he didn't drink anything.

"Alex?" she tries carefully, ready to flee upstairs again if he doesn't want to talk, still can't bear to look at her, as painful as that thought is.

No reaction. She walks into the room but stops nearby the door.

"I'm not leaving you." His voice startles her. "If that's what you're here to ask me. I wanted to, but… who am I trying to fool? I will never leave you no matter how much I want to." Bitter, broken. His words are not meant to hurt her; they simply reveal the truth.

Did she come down to ask him that? Norma doesn't know. She had no plan, always acts on instinct. And the fact that she is here right now, worrying about her husband and not knocking on her son's door, implies something.

"I don't how to fix him," Norma's voice is scarcely audible when she admits her greatest fear. "I always thought I could find a way if I only tried hard enough, if I never gave up, but I don't know how."

It's a choice. Alex was right insofar when he told her at that time during the argument they had at his house. But it's not a choice between him and Norman. _I've never loved anyone enough to feel obligated to be honest with them._ It's a choice to continue the path of truth telling instead of falling back into old patterns.

Alex has moved eventually, is looking at her even though she can't make out his eyes in the dark. These beautiful eyes that use to gaze at her lovingly but reflected utter confusion and quiet resentment earlier tonight.

"I will never give up Norman; he will always be my son. But as far as it's a choice, I choose you," Norma says.

She chooses him and thereby the truth, the future. Saying it out loud does something to her. It's relief and despair at the same time. Norma tries to gulp back the sob but is not able to suppress it or the tears. She doubles up, twining her arms around herself only to feel his hands gently reaching out for her seconds later, enfolding her.

Alex doesn't say anything, just holds her. Sometimes there are no words.

* * *

Up in his room, Norman is staring at the ceiling. He doesn't know how much time has passed, minutes and hours ticking away. It scares him beyond anything that there doesn't seem to be a way to control her. She knows what he knows and does what she wants. A lethal combination.

He is not aware that Alex and Norma are discussing his fate downstairs.

 _He has to go back to Pineview. - I know._

 _If he doesn't do it voluntarily, we have to find another way. - I don't wanna think about that._

 _Do you think I want to do it? But we have to if we want to help him. Norma? - Okay, yeah, just… one step at a time._

Norman can't know that something has changed, that the bond between his mother and the sheriff is even stronger now than before. He presses his hands against his head as if he could squeeze her out of his mind that way. She hasn't returned since his mother kissed him and made him come back to his senses. It's only a question of time though. She never stays away for long.

What is she planning to do next? And how can he stop her before something happens to his mother?

* * *

To be continued

 _At the SDCC this year Vera said something about Norma's tongue having been frozen so that she wasn't able to admit that she couldn't fix her son. I picked up on that idea because facing that truth is the only way imo to make her and Romero work as a couple and move forward. But having said that..._

 _Could it be that easy? Norman goes back to Pineview and everyone is safe and happy? Hmmm… we'll see._


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N:** Sorry for the delay. A nasty cold scared my muse off.

Trigger warning for suicide although there is no actual suicide or character death in this chapter. Just so you know.

This chapter has kind of an evil cliffhanger though. Might as well warn you in advance. So here's a peace offer: If you are truly worried, like not just a little but you-won't-be-able-to-sleep-at-night-because-it-totally-drives-you-crazy worried, send me a PM and I will spoil you. Otherwise wait until the next chapter. ;)

This is a shout-out to all of you who reviewed or PMed me, incl. the guest reviewers and especially to those of you whose names keep appearing regularly like bateslover123, caitieg23, DoomedSometimes, WhereAreWeGoing and Wicked House. You guys are the best!

The usual **disclaimer** applies.

* * *

Norma looks lovely in her dress with a colorful flower pattern. It's a summer dress but when she woke up, she felt the need to lift her mood. She smoothes down the fabric nervously, not noticing that Alex watches her from the other side of the room, his expression equally appreciating and worried.

"So, how do you want to do it?" His words stop her as she is about to head downstairs to make breakfast.

"Huh? Do what?"

"Norma..." Alex steps closer, tilting his head. _Come on._

She sighs, slouching her shoulders. The day hasn't even begun yet. She doesn't want to think about the cruelties of life, about what they discussed yesterday regarding Norman.

"It's morning," Norma whines. "We didn't even have coffee, let alone a decent breakfast. There's no need to hurry."

Alex would beg to differ, but he remains silent, hoping that she hasn't changed her mind, that they are still on the same page in terms of what has to be done next. This is Norma after all, her mood volatile like the weather.

"I will talk to him," Norma eventually says when she realizes he won't drop the subject.

"Are you sure you want to do this alone?"

"You know how defensive Norman gets when it comes to our marriage. He will never agree..." She looks at the door that connects their rooms, lowering her voice to a whisper. "He will never agree to go back to Pineview if we do this together. He would think it's some plan to get rid of him." Norma studies Alex. "That's not what it is, or is it? You don't want to get rid of him?"

There is no easy answer to that question. In a way, Romero wants to get rid of Norman because he is convinced that boy is a threat to both of them. Does he want him out of the picture for good? The harsh truth is, he wouldn't mind if Norman left and never came back. But Norma adores her son; so that scenario is out of the question. Alex has come to terms with the fact that he will have to deal with Norman for the rest of his life. The things we do for love.

"I want you to be safe. And right now I don't think that's possible with him in the house." Despite their understanding that Norman has to go back to Pineview, it's risky to address this so bluntly.

There is no need to worry though. "It was too early for him to come back," Norma agrees. She looks lost, tearing up. "It was my fault. I shouldn't have let him come home. Dr. Edwards told me Norman wasn't ready, but I couldn't…" She shrugs helplessly. "Why does this have to be so hard? I just want us to be happy, all of us."

It breaks Alex's heart to see her like this. Norman might not have won this one, but in one way or the other there will always be an interdependency between the two of them whether Norman will be with them or not.

"It's the right thing to do. I'm sorry that it's so hard." He takes her in his arms and immediately feels her relax. Alex has no idea how he does it, but she's right, somehow he has a magical ability to calm her.

She sniffs and straightens herself, forcing a smile. "Do you want bacon and eggs for breakfast?"

"I'd love that." Making breakfast will distract her. He'll eat twice as much as usual if need be.

"Okay," Norma nods, turning around to leave. "Oh, um, maybe we..." She points at Norman's room. "Maybe we should let him sleep a little longer. He's usually very tired after… um… after one of his episodes." It's all there in her face – love, worry, even fear – before she quashes it. Story of her life. Norma's lips brush his, and with this, she is gone.

Alex tucks his shirt in, taking his time to give her some space. That was a good talk, but it also was the easy part compared to what has to come next. It's going to be a long day.

* * *

Norman is half awake, not wanting to wake up completely. There is not much life has to offer recently that makes waking up a good thing. It's cold; he is freezing, groping for his blanket but not finding it. It must have fallen off the bed. But when he turns over, his mattress feels… odd, as if it has turned into stone overnight. He inhales and coughs, tasting dust. What is going on? Norman groans, sits up, and forces himself to open his eyes.

The room is dim; it takes a moment until he recognizes the familiar surroundings. He's in the basement. Norman stands up, the movement causing nausea and a sharp sting in his head. Only now he registers that he is fully dressed. The fact that he is in his day wear, the nasty headache that usually follows one of his episodes... He remembers now – what happened in his room with his mother, both of them, how he tried to protect her, how she… kissed him. Was that real or did he imagine that? Norman tries to remember what happened afterwards but can't, his mind must have gone blank. It's obvious that he came down here at some point during the night though. Judging by the light outside it is broad day. However it still has to be early since his mother doesn't seem to have noticed he is not in his room as yet.

He hears footsteps and muffled voices above his head. His mother and the sheriff are in the kitchen, having breakfast. The thought that they apparently decided to have breakfast without him hurts. Everything hurts. His body, his head, his soul. He feels so broken. Even being down here, in the basement, isn't what it used to be. In his absence, they cleaned up what they probably considered a mess but what was his refuge. How could they do that? How could she? Well, as much as his mother loves him, she never approved that he spent time in the basement alone, especially not when he engaged in taxidermy. There are some things she just doesn't understand.

Above his head, chairs are moved. The sheriff and his mother are in the hallway now; he can hear them talking loud and clear.

"I'll go to town to run some errands."

There is a slight pause before the sheriff answers.

"Do you want me to come with you?"

Usually the sheriff has this soothing voice when he is talking to his mother. An intonation that is only reserved for her and that turns Norman's stomach. Loving, understanding. Today the sheriff sounds almost indignant about something so trivial as her decision to run some errands though. He was right. The sheriff is not the right man for his mother. The tide is turning.

"No, I just… I'll be back soon. Let Norman sleep some more."

Norman smiles when he hears his mother's affection and concern.

"Ok, but Norma..."

He doesn't understand the rest of their talk. They are murmuring now, probably because the sheriff locked her in his arms as he always does. He can't stop touching his mother. Norman makes a face. Why can't it be the other way round? Why can't the sheriff leave so that he would be alone with her?

The front door opens and closes, and then it's only him and _the husband_ in the house. Since the sheriff is supposed to let him sleep, he might as well stay here in the basement.

Norman looks around, uncertain what to do next, when his gaze gets caught on the old furnace. The heater broke a couple of days ago and had to be fixed. By accident Norman overheard the talk about how dangerous the old furnace is and how lucky they were that they hadn't tried to use it because the fumes could have killed them. The sheriff immediately announced that he would dispose of it, but it's too heavy so that he can't do it on his own and since he more or less never leaves the house anymore, at least not when his mother is here, it probably will take him a while to get rid of it.

It is the first time Norman is down here after he came back from Pineview. Something about the surroundings unsettles him in a way that goes beyond the fact that the basement is too clean and tidy. It's as if the walls are… talking to him, whispering something. Not that they actually do that. He is not _that crazy_ , but merely him being here has triggered something, like a hum deep inside of him.

He stares at the old furnace again. Why did it catch his attention? Only now he notices that something about it looks odd. He steps closer. The hatch is ajar as if someone tried to open it but gave up half way. When he reaches out to touch it, his headache increases, blurry images flashing in his mind's eye. Images of his mother trying to open the hatch. The version of his mother that has been getting out of control lately. And just like that the memories are back. He didn't come down here because he was sleepwalking. He followed her.

 _Mother. Come back here._

But, as usual, she only laughed.

 _Don't be such a killjoy. Just because your dead animals are no longer there doesn't mean we can't have a little fun in the basement._

That's when she started to tear at the furnace.

 _What are you doing? Stop that. It's dangerous!_

But, of course, she didn't stop.

 _Help me. The hatch is stuck. I can't open it._

 _Get away from there!_

He grabbed her and pulled her away, only to feel her twist in his arms, turning around so that she could press herself against him. A fatal mix. Longing and fear.

 _Give up, Norman. You can't stop me. You will_ never _be able to stop me._

She put her hand against his chest, lazily sliding one finger down across the front of his body, her lips only inches apart from his. Despite the situation, her closeness had the usual effect on him. Norman closed his eyes, about to give in, when her next words set his teeth on edge.

 _We won't have our peace as long as she is there. You know what you have to do..._

Her words were a whispered threat or love confession; he didn't know which. He was afraid and aroused and ashamed and when she laughed again, it sounded so cold and mean that he pushed her away from him with such force that he must have stumbled and fallen down. Maybe he hit his head in the process. In any case the fall was sufficient to knock him out so that he ended up spending the rest of the night on the floor in the basement.

Norman takes a deep breath, backing away from the furnace as if it could come alive and attack him all of a sudden. He bumps into a shelf. It looks messy, one of the few places down here that haven't been cleaned up already. He supports himself against the shelf, his hand shoving a bowl aside unintentionally. It topples over, spilling its contents on the basement floor.

Time stands still. Norman knows what he is seeing, but his mind is not able to make sense of it. A gun and a pair of scissors. He freezes, staring at the two items, as the whispering of the walls around him keeps getting louder, turning into voices.

 _What's behind your back, mother? - It's nothing._

 _Norman, don't do this. - We just don't belong in this world anymore, mother. So let's take ourselves out of the equation._

The days before Pineview have been a blur so far. His mother told him not to worry that he couldn't remember, that there was nothing to remember. Then again, why did she insist that he went to Pineview if there wasn't? That has always bothered him. And now it all makes sense. All he wants, all he has ever wanted, is a happy life for his mother and himself. Together. But she brought a pair of scissors down here because she felt the need to defend herself against him. And she was right. He had a gun and he wanted to use it. Norman doubles up, his breath coming in fitful pants.

The sound of nails scratching across the hatch of the furnace makes his flesh crawl.

"Norman, come over and help me." She is back, using an eerie singsong to lure him into her world.

He didn't pull the trigger that night. The sheriff came and took him away. But the game is still on. The gun only has been replaced by the furnace.

 _Give up, Norman. You can't stop me. You will_ never _be able to stop me,_ he remembers the words of that version of his mother he desires and hates at the same time.

But, in fact, there is. He straightens himself, a strange calm taking hold of him. She feels it, her voice angry when she scolds him.

"Come over here, Norman. _Now!_ "

He ignores her. It's so simple. He knows what he has to do, should have done it years ago, but his mother wouldn't let him back then. Ran after him in the woods, convinced him to continue to live. For her. But he can't do that, not if it means that he is constantly putting her life at risk.

Norman picks the gun up. It's loaded. His fingers tremble when he releases the safety catch, the finality of his actions overwhelming him. He starts to cry; he doesn't want to be without her. Let alone that it will break her to have to live without him. But his mother is the most precious thing in the world. He has to protect her at all cost, even if the cost is his own life.

He puts the gun barrel in his mouth, trying to will himself to pull the trigger. His mind keeps providing him with pictures of his mother, though, how they played hide-and-seek when he was a little boy and couldn't find her at first, how lost he felt without her. Will he feel lost without her after he pulled the trigger or will there be nothing but pitch black darkness and some kind of peace?

His fitful breathing makes Norman dizzy. He takes a step aside, knocking against the shelf again, some more items falling to the ground, the noise much louder than before when the bowl toppled over. He doesn't notice it, doesn't notice that the door to the basement has opened and the sheriff has come down, decoyed by the noise, until he is standing right in front of him.

"Norman, put the gun down."

He is so surprised that he actually does that, the gun still in his hand but not pointed at anyone. Not at himself, not at the sheriff.

Then he smells it. Her perfume. She is standing right behind him.

"Now, look who's here," she purrs, softly touching his wrist.

And as if by magic, Norman raises the gun again, aiming right at the sheriff's chest.

* * *

To be continued


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N:** As always, thank you for your reviews and your support. Special thanks go to the guest reviewer who said that the last chapter was 'one of the best understandings of Alex Romero' in fanfic. These are the things that make me little writer's heart very happy because the Bates universe and its characters couldn't be further from my own experiences. So it's not easy for me to write and 'get' them and it's very much appreciated to know that the efforts pay off.

This chapter picks up right where the last one ended. So here's the showdown in the basement.

Trigger warning for suicide endures.

The usual **disclaimer** applies.

* * *

It feels good to get away from the house, even from Alex and Norman for a while. Why does everything have to be so complicated? Why can't she love Alex without hurting Norman and vice versa? Norma sighs, reminding herself not to overthink things. _Look ahead. Move forward._ That's what she always has done.

Once she has left the dark thoughts behind, it's actually quite nice to ramble about the city. People smile at her, greet her friendly. It's different, now that she is _Mrs. Sheriff_. Norma buys more groceries than necessary, spurred by the idea of a lovely family lunch and dinner. Whatever will happen, will happen. That doesn't mean they can't eat and have a nice time together first.

Only when she gets in the car, an uneasy feeling preoccupies her. She tries to shake it off but can't. Maybe it's because she is on her way home, back to where things are tense and complicated. _Have a good day, Mrs. Romero_. She probably won't, considering what Alex expects her to do. Norma grips the wheel and focuses on the street. One step at a time.

* * *

 _Where did he get the gun?_

Alex's thoughts are racing. His gun is upstairs, safely locked away. He could kick himself for never asking Norma whether she owned a gun because that's probably what this is. Her gun and Norman must have found it. A woman like Norma would have a gun. Of course, she would have. Dylan used to have easy access to illegal weapons; he would bet on that's how she got it. Romero remembers Norma hiding at the harbor when he shot Jake Abernathy. She most likely had it even back then, was prepared to take the man out if he hadn't done it. How could he have missed this? Alex shudders to think Norma had been alone in the house with her son and a gun before he moved in.

"Put the gun down, Norman" he repeats. "No one is going to get hurt."

He is not trained as a negotiator in a case of hostage-taking or similar situations. White Pine Bay is a small town; he always has been able to handle his fair share of criminals relying on nothing but instinct and an extensive knowledge of human nature. Romero is not sure, though, whether any of that will be helpful now. This is different. That kid is different.

Norman seems to be in some kind of trance; his pupils are fully dilated. He points the gun at him but is staring right through him, his mind obviously somewhere else. Another mistake. He should have checked that Norman was taking his medication, not relied on Norma's word and the fact that Norman has been behaving rather tolerable lately. How could he have been so stupid, so reckless? Despite his trance-like state, Norman's finger on the trigger twitches. One wrong word, one wrong move, and everything will be over. At this short range, the bullet won't miss him.

"Norman?" Alex tries again. No reaction.

Romero can't tell what Norman registers and what not. He seems to be in another world, a slight tilt of his head or quirk of his mouth here and there indicating that he reacts to something or someone who isn't there, at least not visible for anyone else but him. Alex cautiously takes a step forward. Norman doesn't seem to notice. Good. That's good. He holds his breath. Another step. Romero raises his hand in slow-motion, his instinct telling him that any quick move will end Norman's trance. Almost there. As much as he wanted Norman to listen to him earlier, he now hopes that he remains catatonic. Alex's fingers are only a few inches away from the gun when he hears it. The front door. Norma is back.

"Alex? Norman? I'm home," her voice is cheerful, waking Norman from his trance.

He gives a jump, clutching the gun even more tightly. Romero was so close to taking the gun away from Norman, but the opportunity is gone, the element of surprise no longer there. He should have just grabbed the gun, should have ignored the remaining risk. This is not anyone though. This is Norma's son. So he hesitated one split second and now it's too late.

"Stay back!" Norman hisses, waving the gun around. His attention is focused on his opponent although he still seems to see or hear things, shifting from one foot to the other and flinching now and then as if he was trying to get away from someone half-heartedly. Norman's behavior, his entire mood, is completely unpredictable.

"Ok Norman, everything's fine. I only want to talk to you." Alex steps back, raising his hands in a calming gesture.

He needs to convince that kid that he is not the enemy. Unfortunately, he is the worst cast for that job since Norman hates him. However, he needs to resolve the situation before Norma comes down looking for them. The last thing he wants is her in here while her son has a gun. Even if the bullet missed him or God forbid her, a ricochet still could kill one of them. There is a slight chance that the gun is not loaded, but he can't rely on that. Won't. The stakes are too high.

"There is nothing to talk about," Norman says coldly.

Upstairs Norma walks across the rooms. "Alex?" Pausing, listening. "Norman?"

"Give me the gun, Norman. You don't want your mother to see you like that, do you?" Alex hears Norma walking up the steps to look for them there. It buys them some time. If only there was a way to get through to Norman. "Listen, Norman…," he tries but sees the boy flinch another time from something that is not visible to him.

"No," Norman growls at no one in particular, "I won't do it."

Won't do what? Is he having another blackout? Either way, his instinct tells Alex he is running out of time. In the distance Norma's voice is calling for them, getting more and more worried by the minute.

"Give me the gun, Norman," Alex whispers.

"You don't understand," Norman mutters, tearing up. "No one understands." His body twitches; he seems to talk to someone behind him. "No, I told you _I won't do it_." Then, his attention focused back on the sheriff, "It's over."

Norman's words and his tone of voice have a finality that make Alex shudder. Experience has taught him that people who have nothing to lose are the most dangerous.

"Wait, Norman. We can work this out. Together." These are the right words to say, but Alex knows they are lost on Norman. He already has retreated in his mind where no one can reach him.

Norma is back on the first floor. "Where is everybody? That's not funny."

Her steps approach the door to the basement. It's now or never. Ignoring the risk for his own life, Romero moves forward. He has to take the gun away from Norman, no matter the cost, and prepares for a shot to go off, for the impact of a bullet, tearing his skin and flesh. He is not prepared, however, for Norman to put the gun against his own head.

"Stop!" Norman says so calmly and determinedly that it is clear this is no bluff.

The door to the basement opens. "Come on. What is this? A game? Well, I'm not laughing. Are you two hiding in…," Norma's voice trails off as she grasps the scenario right in front of her. "Oh my God, Norman!"

Alex knows what she will do next. It doesn't matter that Norman has a gun, that he is dangerous. Norma will walk straight up to her son because she still believes against her better judgement that she is able to fix him, ignoring the risk for her own life in the process. When she tries to go past him, Alex puts out his arm, blocking her way, his hand gripping her hip.

"Stand back, Norma."

"No… I have to..."

Of course, she won't surrender just like that, trying to shake off his hand to get to her son.

"Norma!"

There is no other choice. Alex puts his arms around her waist, practically lifting her up to stop her. The situation was bad enough already. Having to protect Norma on top of it makes it even worse. Let alone that the way he is holding her is somewhat counterproductive to protecting her because it basically makes her his human shield. But Norman wouldn't shoot his own mother, or would he?

"I'm so sorry, mother!"

Only now Romero realizes that Norman has been repeating the same words over and over. Norma freezes in his arms. At first Alex thinks it's due to Norman's words until he notices that she has detected a pair of scissors on the floor next to where Norman is standing. The sight seems to drive her frantic.

"Oh my God, oh my God! How could I forget that I put it there?" she moans, almost hyperventilating as she desperately tries to free herself from his grip.

"I remember now, mother. What I wanted to do to you. And I don't want it to happen again. I can't let it happen again because I love you."

"Norman, please..." Norma is sobbing, pleading with her son, "You can't do this. We have to be together."

Norman will pull the trigger any second; they all know it. Alex wouldn't risk his life, let alone Norma's, to stop Norman from killing himself, but he knows, if Norman will kill himself right in front of their eyes and he did nothing to prevent it, their relationship will never recover from that. Norman is focused on his mother's face, searching for forgiveness, acceptance, anything that will allow him to go through with his plan, and Norma is still waiting for a chance to escape from his grip. When she tears at his wrists another time, Alex uses the momentum of her move to push her as far away from himself and Norman as possible while at the same time jumping at Norman, reaching for the gun.

The shot is deafening, as is Norma's scream. Norman collapses on the ground, blood pouring out of his head.

"What did you do? Norman!" Norma kneels down next to her son, touching his face and chest. When Norman doesn't move, she looks at Romero. "Is he dead?" Her voice is shaking, her eyes begging him to fix this. Somehow, anyhow.

Alex feels Norman's pulse. It's there, faint but steady. He takes a look at Norman's head wound. It was a graze shot and he probably broke Norman's wrist because he twisted it backwards mercilessly, afraid the shot would hit Norma otherwise.

"No he is not," Alex says, uncertain what he is feeling. Anger? Relief? "I'm going to call an ambulance."

He was right. This is going to be a long day.

* * *

To be continued

 _I'm quite sure at least some of you would have preferred Norman to die and I have to admit I considered that option. In the end, I decided not to do it (obviously), not least because of the impact it would have had on Norma and Alex. What happened (and how to handle it) will have a huge impact on them either way, though, that will be explored in the next chapter._


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N:** Normero angst and reconciliation. That's why the last part of this chapter is a strong T or even M rating. ;)

The trigger warning for suicide endures to be on the safe side.

Thank you for reading and reviewing. For some reason I really struggled with this chapter. So I hope you enjoy the outcome.

The usual **disclaimer** applies.

* * *

The hospital buzzes with energy. Doctors, nurses, visitors – everyone is in motion except for Alex and Norma, an invisible cloud of silence, concern, and the inevitable, upcoming argument surrounding them. They are sitting next to each other in the waiting room, Norma's eyes fixated on the door to the emergency section while Alex is holding her hand. She doesn't even seem to notice it, her posture rigid and tense.

The door of the emergency room opens and Norma flinches but slumps down when she realizes it is not the doctor that has been treating Norman. Alex squeezes her hand. The touch nudges her to finally acknowledge his presence. When she looks at him, her eyes reflecting sadness and a resigned acceptance, he knows what is coming next.

There was no time to talk while they were waiting for the ambulance in the basement or on their way here. Norma had sobbed and gently rocked an unconscious Norman back and forth in her arms until the paramedics arrived. And even after everything, it was expected that she wanted to stay with her son, drove to the hospital in the ambulance along with him, as Alex followed them in his car.

Norma intertwines their fingers. "So what are you going to say when they ask us what happened?"

Romero knows there is always more than one version of the truth; he has been living in its various shades all his life. He also knows his version of the truth will be different from Norma's. As much as he loves her, this certain character trait drives him crazy. Norma has created her own reality as far as Norman is concerned.

"I'm going to tell them what happened, that Norman first pointed a gun at me and then tried to kill himself."

Norma lets go of his hand. "I didn't see him point a gun at you."

"You also didn't see him come at me with an ax. So you're going to pretend that didn't happen either? Norma…," for her sake Alex looks around, lowering his voice when he spots some people within earshot. "He is dangerous to himself and others. You can't ignore that. We can't go on as if nothing happened."

"No, of course. I don't want that." Her mood is that mix of defense and attack he knows so well. Norma takes a deep breath. "I know Norman has to go back to Pineview. We agreed on that. But we also agreed that I would talk to him first."

"Talk to him? Norma, come on. What is there to talk about?"

"It needs to be his decision to go back. If you tell the doctors that he tried to kill himself, they will lock him up there even against his wishes. He will never forgive me that and he will never get better then." Norma is getting anxious, their talk on the verge of becoming an argument.

"Forgive _you_? Norma, I think you have lost perspective. The fact that he threatened me twice aside, I won't risk that he hurts you. Norman found the gun in the basement because that's were you left it, didn't you? I saw the pair of scissors, too. Did he threaten to kill you the night I took him to Pineview? Was that the reason you felt the need to defend yourself? Why you were so scared and wanted to have him admitted immediately when you called me?" Alex had always wondered about the events of that night. Once he saw the gun and the pair of scissors as well as Norma's reaction to it, it was easy to connect the dots.

"He is sick. He didn't know what he was doing." Norma brushes a tear away. "But he has made progress."

"Pro… Progress?" Alex is taken aback. "That's what you call progress? I'm not even sure he is taking his medication anymore. And we have to ensure that he does. They will do that in Pineview."

But whatever reasonable point he brings in, Norma is on a roll, talking herself up into a frenzy. "You can't tell anyone, Alex. Give him a chance, _please_. It's my fault. After everything that happened… the kidnapping and Caleb's death… I forgot to get Norman re-transferred to Dr. Edwards. But I will make sure of it. Norman had a good rapport with Dr. Edwards. He will..."

"Norma stop..." Alex grabs her shoulders. People have started to shoot curious glances at them, their agitated whispering attracting unwanted attention. "He was about to shoot himself. You saw it. Your son would be dead if I hadn't pushed the gun away. And I don't dare to imagine what could have happened if you had been alone with him."

Norma's expression hardens; she breathes short. "Fine. Tell them whatever you want, but don't pretend you're doing it for me. In fact, I don't know how to continue… _this_ if you do."

" _This_? Continue _this_? You mean _us_? Are you trying to blackmail me? Because let me tell you what is going to happen, Norma. Every hospital has to report a gun shot wound. There will be an official investigation as to how the wound was inflicted, meaning we will have to make an official statement as well as Norman. Good for you that you are married to the sheriff and that I already told them, I'd handle it."

She holds his gaze. There is a hint of gratefulness before anger wins the upper hand again. "Good." Norma throws her hands up in the air. "So it's handled."

"It's not..." Alex clenches his teeth. "We still have to make an official statement at some point."

"Yes, sure." Here and now _at some point_ translates into _never_ in Norma's world.

This is so frustrating and ultimately pointless despite his efforts. Will she ever be able to admit that her son is dangerous? That he tried to kill her as well as himself? No matter what, in the end it's always Norman who drives a wedge between them.

The door of the emergency room opens another time.

"Mr. and Mrs. Romero?"

Norma jumps up.

"How is my son? It was an accident. He didn't want to pull the trigger."

The doctor is slightly irritated by her behavior and words. Then again, everyone reacts in a different way to stressful situations.

"He is still unconscious but stable. You can see him now if you want."

* * *

Norma has been sitting next to Norman's hospital bed for ten hours straight. The doctors told them that it could take up to 24 hours until he would regain consciousness. Romero drove home in between to clean up the mess in the basement. There is no need to confront Norma with the pool of her son's blood once she comes back. When he arrived at the hospital again, he found Norma in the exact same position next to Norman.

"Are you hungry? Do you want coffee?"

"No, thanks." She shakes her head, her eyes never leaving Norman's face. "He can't die," Norma says, her voice barely audible. "I wouldn't know how to live without him."

"You don't have to. You heard what the doctor said. He will pull through." Alex pours her a glass of water from the bottle on Norman's nightstand. "Here at least drink this."

She takes one sip before she puts the glass down.

This is all wrong. He should be talking to those responsible at Pineview right at this moment, make sure that Norman will be admitted as soon as possible. Instead he just talked to one of the doctors, used his position as sheriff to make him promise they will keep Norman in the hospital for two weeks. Considering that his graze shot is rather minor and his broken wrist has already been splinted, he would be released after two or three days otherwise, but there is no way he will let Norman back in the house with them.

He is buying them time because despite his conviction what is the right thing to do, there is still Norma and her convictions, delusions, whatever. And he loves her and is aware that going behind her back will at least threaten, possibly even end their marriage. So here he is with the woman he loves and her son who is a deadly threat for both of their lives. An ominous triangle to say the least.

"Will you take care of him for a moment? I have to go to the bathroom." Norma stands up, more or less staggering over to the door. Alex reaches out to support her, but she puts him off. "I'm fine. Just a little dizzy." He let's her go, making a mental note to get her something to eat whether she wants it or not.

Fate has a strange sense of humor though. The moment Norma is gone, Norman stirs, groaning with pain. He opens his eyes, disoriented at first but quickly focusing on his surroundings.

"So… I'm alive," he states, his voice husky.

"Looks like it." Alex is not in the mood to have a conversation with Norman.

"Where is my mother?"

Alex snorts. Of course that would be Norman's prior concern. "She will be back any minute." Why is he even talking to that kid? Answering his questions? It should be vice versa.

Norman's eyes darken. "You should've let me go through with it."

"Oh believe me, if it had only been you and me, I wouldn't have stopped you."

The gasp catches their attention. Norma is standing in the doorframe. She doesn't say anything, just hurries to Norman's bed, flinging her arms around him, ignoring Alex in the process.

"You're awake. It's all gonna be good now."

* * *

The days pass. Norma is with Norman most of the time, nagging the doctors why they won't release him, and Alex has gone back to work. It's like a skewed version of normalcy. This could be a normal life – a married couple waiting for their son to get better so that they can take him home – when it is anything but.

They haven't picked up on the subject what to tell whom and how to proceed, her resistance to accept the truth standing between them as well as his inconsiderate and yet true remark she overheard, Norma's distinct ability to ignore things encountering Alex's no less distinct stoicism. As always, their opposites attract more than they repel, their vastly different character traits allowing them to live in this transitional stage until they will have found a way to handle the situation. Their unspoken agreement includes more latitude for both of them, meaning that Alex gets up early, leaving the house before Norma is awake so that dinner is their only shared meal. Their dinners are not what they used to be though. These days they are characterized by small talk that feels uncomfortable at best and borders on ridiculous when she tells him about Norman's recovery as if there actually was the option that he could come home. Doing the dishes after dinner together is their ritual, however, the sole moment of the day that allows them to find some kind of peace because no communication is required. It is sufficient that they are there, standing side by side, husband and wife.

Afterwards Alex is about to head upstairs and get ready for bed when her words stop him.

"Alex, wait!" He turns around to look at Norma, her delicate features distorted with pain. "I talked to Norman today about going back to Pineview." That's why she was even quieter during dinner than usual. Norma fiddles around with the kitchen towel.

"So what did he say?"

"He will think about it."

"Think about it? How generous of him."

"Alex, stop it. I did what you wanted, didn't I?"

"You did what we agreed on before the incident in the basement. We haven't agreed on anything after that yet, but apparently you decided that Norman still has the right to a say in regard what happens to him."

"Why wouldn't he have the right?"

"Because he is sick."

"Do you think I don't know that? That was my son in the basement holding a gun to his head. You might not care whether he lives or dies, but I do. And I can't put him in an institution against his will. I just can't." Norma takes a deep breath, avoiding eye contact. "It is not the first time Norman tried to kill himself," she admits, her voice flat. "He stayed in this world for me, to be with me, and I promised to be there for him every step of the way. So I can't just abandon him. It has to be his choice to go back to Pineview. He needs to understand that it is necessary."

"Then I hope he decides to go back to Pineview soon because that's where he is going anyway."

"Ok." Norma shrugs, clearly disappointed as to the outcome of their conversation and barely able to suppress her anger.

It is the first time they spoke about Norman and right away their talk turned into an argument, but Alex couldn't help it. His arrangement with the doctors has bought them two weeks. One week is almost over. A week during which he has been waiting for any hint that Norma is willing to send Norman back to Pineview no matter what, his sleepless nights characterized by scattered thoughts how to get Norman committed while not ruining his marriage.

The admission that it was not the first time Norman tried to take his own life didn't come as a surprise. He put the gun against his head without hesitation. A clear indication that he at least had given thought to the idea before. It is horrible and sad. Alex can't imagine the pain Norma has to endure because of it.

So this. Right now. It's a good thing. Norma is talking to him. She made the first move despite the fact that his words at the hospital for sure hurt her. And yet, it feels like too little, too late. Even lying in a hospital bed, Norman has his mother firmly under control while he is doomed to hold on and pick up the pieces. Alex is still holding back the official report as to what caused Norman's graze shot, just like he has always bent or broken the law for her. Same difference. But he wants things to be different. Those weeks before Norman came back home were the happiest in Alex's entire life. He wants to have that again. Let alone that Norman is much more dangerous than he assumed. Either way, they are running out of time and he is running out of patience.

"I think I should go to sleep." Alex is aware that his behavior is hurting Norma. However putting pressure on her will only drive them further apart and there is nothing else left to do but wait. It tires him. Let alone that he is hurting, too. Save that a man like Alex Romero doesn't admit that. He simply goes to bed.

"Alex..." Norma puts the kitchen towel down, stepping closer to him. "Please don't be mad or be mad for all I care. Just give Norman a couple of days to think about it." She pauses. "I'm mad, too, because of what you said to him, but I understand why you said it. We all have to make sacrifices here." Her gaze lingers on his lips. "I miss you. I miss being close to you."

Perhaps this is the sharpest contrast compared to the people they had been before tragedy stroke. He couldn't keep his hands off her. Ever. And she loved to pretend that it annoyed her when, of course, it didn't.

Norma leans into him. "You haven't touched me for almost a week. You're here but not here. I feel lonely."

She brushes his lips with hers, testing his reaction. When Alex doesn't kiss her back but also doesn't retreat, she adds some tongue, tickling his lower lip, teasing him.

"Don't you want me?" Norma murmurs.

Of course he does. He wants this. Her. So bad. But it's like a déjà vu. As much as Norma enjoys sex, it's usually him who initiates it. Norma only does it when she feels detached. Physical closeness seems to ground her whenever her life threatens to fall apart. And more often than not Norman is the reason. If it hadn't been for her falling-out with Norman, their first time wouldn't have happened. At least not then and there. And today she had another confrontation with Norman about an uneasy subject.

"I don't think we should do this now."

"I think you do," she says, raising an eyebrow. Her body is pressed against his and his physical reaction didn't go unnoticed. She reaches for his belt.

"Norma, stop!" It's ridiculous. He wants her. Why not give in and sleep with her? She is his wife for God's sake. "There is so much going on right now. We're angry with each other. Sex won't fix this. I don't want you to feel like I'm using you." That's why.

Norma's unhealthy pattern to use sex as a coping mechanism aside, this is the reason Alex has been so hesitant to touch her. He is incessantly aware of her past, the violence she had to endure. By no means he even remotely wants to convey that he is like one of the men who abused her, thinking only of himself and his needs.

This makes her stop. She looks at him, the same expression in her eyes she had back then when she realized he had killed Bob Paris to protect her. Somehow she still can't believe the extent of his love.

"I know it won't fix anything," Norma whispers. "But it will fix me."

After another brief moment of hesitation, Alex lifts her onto the countertop. The moment Norma realizes what he is doing, she continues to undo his belt, feeling his hands slip down her panties in a reckless haste. Fabric tears as if now that he has decided to go through with this, there is no time to waste. He kisses her as if he was drowning and she his last breath of air, sliding into her with one move. Norma gasps surprised. She was ready; it's not painful. On any other day, however, he would have spend time on foreplay first to make sure.

And then it's only their panting, their outlines a blurry reflection in the window glass. It's rough and tender, desperate and slow as their hips meet thrust by thrust. Norma clings to Alex, her legs keeping him close, her whispers urging him on. He is more than willing to oblige, her stifled moan his reward when her body becomes rigid for a moment before she melts in his arms and he eventually allows himself to follow her.

He was right, it doesn't fix anything, and yet, it fixes everything because this is who they are.

* * *

To be continued

 _In case you were wondering: I thought it was more realistic to let Norma fall back into some old (bad) behavioral patterns here (although I think she is still pretty reasonable by her standards). Even though she has made progress regarding Norman and her awareness that he has to go back to Pineview, development is not a straight line and Norma's character is far from flawless (that's why I love her so much). Plus it was necessary to lead up to the last scene. ;)_


	17. Chapter 17

**A/N:** Sorry for the delay and thank you to everyone who reviewed, incl. Wicked House and the guest who left a rather long, lovely review. I really appreciate it.

Warning: Character death, but it's not Norma or Alex.

The usual **disclaimer** applies.

* * *

It's a countdown.

Norman is supposed to stay in the hospital for two weeks.

On the sixth day Norma talked to him about going back to Pineview, mainly because she was aware Alex was waiting for her to do it and because the situation between her and Alex had become increasingly difficult due to the unsolved Norman situation.

 _Do you want me to move out and go back to Pineview?_

 _\- I don't want you to move out. I want you in my life. But I want you to get better. It will only be temporary._

 _What about the sheriff? Does he want me in his life, too?_

 _\- Norman, just think about it, please. That's all I'm asking. What happened scares me. I can't lose you._

And that was that.

Norman promised to think about it; how could he resist his mother when she was pleading with him like that? When Norma visited him on the following days, he had no answer for her though.

Then, on the tenth day, everything goes to hell.

* * *

Norma is on her way back home from the hospital when her phone rings. It's Alex. She longs to hear his voice and immediately feels guilty for being happily married when her son is having such hard times. It's the same guilt she feels when she is with Norman and wants nothing more than him to come home despite the fact that he threatened her husband's life twice already. Two sides of the same coin.

"Hey, hun," she answers the call.

"Hey. Are you on your way home?"

It's good to hear his voice although Alex sounds tense, probably is having a tough day at work. Why does life have to be so hard?

"Yes."

"Any news?"

He means from Norman, can't even bring himself to say his name. _What about the sheriff? Does he want me in his life, too?_ No, he doesn't, Norma is well aware of that.

She sighs. "No."

"Norma, could you come by here before you drive home? There is something I need to tell you in person."

"What?" She is alarmed. "What is it?"

"Just come over and I'll tell you."

"Did something happen to Norman? I just left him."

"No, nothing happened to Norman," Alex replies, sounding tired now. "I'll tell you when you're here. I have to go." He ends the call abruptly without their usual tender farewell.

It only takes a couple of minutes until Norma arrives at Alex's office. If his call had the purpose to worry her, he succeeded. Norma is worried and angry that he wouldn't tell her anything on the phone before he basically hung up on her. So it's a good thing that she's the sheriff's wife now and that the same people who made her wait in the anteroom for years, let her through without delay. Norma knows she is not popular among Alex's staff, but she couldn't care less.

"What is it? Tell me," she demands as soon as she enters his office.

Alex closes the door behind Norma and pulls up a chair so that she can sit down. On the surface he is as calm and composed as usual; however there is an uncomfortable tension in his moves. Something is very wrong. He didn't embrace her, didn't kiss her, didn't even ask her to take off her coat. What he does is sit down next to her and take her hand. Norma loves his obsession with her hands, but today the gesture worries her even more.

"Gee, Alex, just tell me!"

He looks at her with a mix of pity and wariness.

"They found Emma's car."

For a moment Norma is confused. "Emma's car? What…? Where?"

"In Seattle. The Seattle PD called me since Dylan's car was found in my district and I was the one who reported him and Emma missing."

Norma flinches when he mentions Dylan's name and the term _missing_ in the same sentence but remains silent otherwise.

"Remember when I told you that Dylan and Emma weren't in their apartment but that traces of blood were found there?"

"Yes." Eyes wide open, her voice small as if she was a timid child, barely breathing.

Alex doesn't want to tell her. Norma has been through so much in her life already; she doesn't need this on top of it all. But there is no way around it. He squeezes her hand.

"When we found Dylan's new car here in White Pine Bay and found out that he had sold his old on, everyone assumed they had sold Emma's old car too because the new car was much more expensive." Alex is angry with himself that he overlooked that albeit the Seattle PD didn't check it either. Since the traces of blood found in the apartment weren't enough to be suspicious and two missing adults doesn't necessarily mean their disappearance has to be crime-related, there never has been an official investigation. Until now. "As it turned out, Emma still had her car. It was parked in an underground parking garage. Security got suspicious after a while." More than a while, actually, but the parking garage in question is in a derelict area.

In fact, security became aware of the car only because of the smell. This, however, is something Alex for sure won't tell Norma. Due to low temperatures the body had been decaying slower than usual, but at some point the typical smell was impossible to ignore.

"When they checked the car they found traces of blood on it and opened the trunk."

Norma holds her breath, her eyes jumping back and forth between his eyes and lips. It's a habit of hers. She does it not only when she is aroused but also when she is nervous, as if her eyes are not able to suppress her flight instinct. She just can't keep them still.

"Norma, Emma is dead. They found her body in the trunk."

"Oh my God!" she whispers. Then, after a brief, shocked pause, "How did she die?"

He takes a deep breath. "It looks as if she was stabbed to death. They… they have to perform the autopsy yet." It's hard to say these words and even harder not to imagine Emma's lifeless, mutilated body, carelessly discarded in a trunk. She was such a lovely girl, brimming over with life despite her difficult fate, had just survived a lung transplant, and then this.

Alex takes both of Norma's hands in his. There is more he has to tell her. "There were traces of blood in the car that match Dylan's DNA. It's his blood. But he wasn't in the car."

"What does that mean? Where is he?"

Every emotion Norma has been bottling up so far breaks through. She is breathing much too fitfully. Alex is aware that she will hyperventilate if she keeps that up.

"Norma..." He bends over to grab her shoulders. "Norma, listen to me. I don't know where Dylan is, but he wasn't in the car, and as far as I'm concerned, that means he is alive."

Alex doesn't know whether he will regret his words later because he is whitewashing the situation. The amount of blood found in the car, matching Dylan's DNA suggests that he was not only in the car but severely injured. The irony of the fact that the Seattle PD didn't find his body being that it makes him a suspect even if by now there is only one prime suspect Alex has in mind.

His words have the desired effect though. Norma exhales and her breathing calms down.

"So where is he?" The desperate hope in her eyes breaks his heart.

Alex shakes his head, stroking her arms. "I don't know but given the situation, the Seattle PD does everything to find him and I will do everything I can to help them." That, after all, is the truth.

Norma shifts on her chair, leaning into his arms so that he can embrace her, his arms protecting her against the world. Neither of them mentions the obvious, that Norman told them a lie when he claimed that Emma and Dylan drove him to White Pine Bay, that he very likely is somehow involved in whatever happened.

"Go home, take a rest," Alex says tenderly. "I have to make some phone calls, but I'll be with you as soon as I can." He needs her not to be here for what he is about to do.

* * *

As soon as Norma is out the door, Alex instructs one of his deputies to take up his post outside of Norman's room at the hospital. He has to make sure that he stays put. Alex hasn't told the Seattle PD about Norman lying to them how he got to White Pine Bay yet, but he will. Soon. He wants to ask Norman another time about that in person before he does it though. Call it a last favor for the sake of his marriage. He doesn't dare to imagine what will happen when he has to confront Norma with it. It will for sure cause an argument much worse than any one they have ever had.

His thoughts briefly drift off to Emma's father. Alex is glad that he was not the one who had to break the horrible news to him. Emma's father has been calling him almost every day since he came back from Europe. Alex hasn't told Norma about it because it would have been of no use. Interestingly enough, Emma's father never suspected Norman to be involved in the mysterious disappearance of his daughter and Dylan. Somehow Norman's violent side must have escaped him, probably because he has ever only seen him as the weird but likable kid that shares his interest in taxidermy.

There is a knock on his office door. He is needed for some routine work. Time doesn't stand still for no one's death. In a way, Alex is grateful to be distracted, if only for a while. He doesn't handle grief well since his mother decided to depart this life much too soon.

The call from his deputy he sent to the hospital comes approximately an hour later.

"Sheriff Romero? Norman Bates is not in his room and he also doesn't seem to be anywhere in the hospital."

Alex can't believe what he is hearing, gripping the phone so hard that his knuckles stand out white.

"What do you mean he is not there? Did he check himself out?"

"No. He just isn't in his room anymore and not anywhere else in or near the hospital. I checked everywhere."

His deputy is calm, unemotional. When Alex told him it was important Norman stayed in the hospital, he didn't give him any background information. His deputy has no reason to believe Norman is dangerous, his absence cause for concern that goes beyond worry about his own health.

"Keep looking for him. And call me if you find him."

Alex ends the call and dials Norma's number without delay. He has no idea what happened. Norman can't possibly know about anything that has been going on today. However he is not willing to take any risk.

"Pick up, Norma, come on," he mumbles, but the phone rings and rings before it goes to voicemail.

 _Hi, this is Norma Bates. Leave a message and I'll call you back._

Her voice triggers agonizing images. It's not Emma's bloodstained body in the trunk anymore; it's hers. This can't be happening. It has to be a coincidence and yet...

Alex grabs his keys and runs out of his office.

"I want an APB out for Norman Bates _now_. His information and photo are in the data base," he shouts at his staff on his way out.

He has to find Norma.

* * *

To be continued

 _Ok, don't yell at me, p-l-e-a-s-e. Yes, I know it's another cliffhanger. BUT – in my defense: Things might not be as they seem. I don't want to spoil you; so that's all I'm going to say. And now you can yell at me (if you still want to). ;)_


	18. Chapter 18

**A/N:** Thank you to everyone, incl. guests/Wicked House, for reviewing. And sorry (not sorry) for the cliffhanger at the end of the last chapter. ;) Either way, here is the resolution.

The usual **disclaimer** applies.

* * *

When Romero arrives at the motel, Norma's car is nowhere to be seen. He checks the motel and the house, anyway, as if his sheer willpower was enough to make her appear out of the blue. Every room he finds empty, every call for her that remains unanswered feels like a kick in the gut, a sense of foreboding slowly but surely turning into pure fear. Norma's absence and the uncertainty what has happened to her are worse than when she was kidnapped. Back then he knew that the men who took her needed her alive as leverage whereas now… He doesn't know where Norma is, doesn't know whether she is with her son or not. But if she is, she's in danger. Norman at least once considered a murder-suicide before. What if he tries again and there's no one there to stop him? No one to protect her?

Alex calls his office, but they have no news. He calls Norma for what must be the 100th time, but the call goes to voicemail again. There is no way she would have not called him back by now if she was able to contact him. He gets in his car and starts the engine. When he grips the wheel, his hands are shaking.

* * *

 **Earlier...**

The tears won't stop.

Norma sniffs and wipes them away with the back of her hand. _Don't be such a crybaby_ , she scolds herself. _You heard Alex. Dylan is alive and they will find him._ But… That's the point. There are too many buts, too many questions.

 _Why was his blood in the car?_

 _Why would he drive Norman to White Pine Bay and then vanish into thin air?_

 _Why wouldn't he answer his phone?_

And the biggest question of all:

 _Why would he leave Emma in Seattle? On Christmas. In the trunk of her car. Dead._

Norma doesn't believe for one second that Dylan is involved in Emma's death. He loved that girl. She can't imagine any situation that could have prompted Dylan to kill her.

Emma is dead… The thought brings fresh tears to Norma's eyes. It's surreal. Emma can't be dead. Norma is not attached to anyone aside from her sons and Alex. People are generally disappointing. Emma was an exception of this rule though. She genuinely liked her, even told her once that if she had been lucky enough to have a daughter, she would have wanted her to be exactly like her. It was a half-hearted compliment back then, but over the years, Norma realizes, it had become true. Emma was like a daughter to her. And now she is gone.

The car skids briefly before Norma gets it under control again. The road is slippery and her thoughts distract her. That's why she only sees the figure walking down the street after she has already driven past him. Norma casts a glance in the rearview mirror, slams on the breaks and reverses.

"What are you doing?" She is driving in walking speed next to him, has wound the car window down.

"I'm walking."

"Don't be snippy. I can see that. But why?"

"Because I have no car and no money to take a cab."

"Would you stop that?! Where the hell are you going? It's freezing!"

But he ignores her and stubbornly keeps on walking until Norma steps on the gas and blocks his way with the car so that he stumbles against it.

"Get in the car, Norman," she hisses and this time he obliges although she can tell that he doesn't want to.

They sit in silence for a moment while other cars are passing by, honking because Norma's parked car is obstructing traffic.

"Why did you leave the hospital?" she tries again.

When visited Norman, everything seemed to be fine. He was quieter than usual, but she traced it back to the fact that he knew she was waiting for an answer from him regarding Pineview.

Norman has tears in his eyes. "I just had to get out of there. These dreams…"

Norma doesn't know that his dreams came back. He didn't tell her about it. The dreams about the woman suffocating in her own blood. Norman knows who she is, always sees her face before he wakes up, but it doesn't make sense. Why would he dream about Emma dying? Emma isn't dead.

"They are just dreams, right?" He looks at his mother.

The hope in his eyes breaks her heart. This talk about dreams, however, makes Norma also feel queasy. It wouldn't be the first time her son is not able to distinguish between dreams and reality.

"What dreams?"

Norman looks down, his hands rubbing over his thighs nervously.

"About Emma."

Norma holds her breath.

"What… are you dreaming about her?"

"I don't know. She's… dying in my dream. But she's alive; she's in Europe with Dylan. So why do I keep dreaming about her?"

Norma barely manages to suppress a sob. The stifled sound catches Norman's attention. Only now he notices that her eyes are red and puffy, her mascara smeared.

"What happened, mother? Why did you cry? Did you have a fight with the sheriff?" He immediately loses his train of thought because the idea of a fight between his mother and her husband stirs him up. There is nothing he wants more than their break-up. "I told you he is not good for you. Why won't you listen to me?"

Norma shakes her head. "No, Norman. I didn't fight with Alex."

Her son's general inner unrest and sudden mood swing worry her. She spoke to Dr. Edwards and he prescribed Norman his medication again, agreed to take him back as his patient. Norma knows the hospital makes sure Norman takes his medication along with the other pills he has to take for his pain and nausea, but right know she wonders whether he may have found a way not to take them. Would he do that? Would he betray her like that?

Norman doesn't know that Dylan's abandoned car was found. Amidst the chaos that has been surrounding them recently, it has never felt like the right time to tell him. Norma takes a deep breath. Should she tell him? About the car and Emma? What does her son know? What did he do?

Norma wishes Alex were here. He would know what to do. Another car passes by, honking. She can't park here forever; sooner or later she will cause an accident. All right, then. She has to do _something_. Norma puts the car into first gear.

"Where are we going?" Her confusion and obvious distress confuse Norman in return. It's their interdependency, has always been like this.

"I want to show you something."

That seems to suffice as an explanation. They remain silent as Norma drives out of town to the glade where Dylan's car was found. She insisted on knowing the exact place where it had been found because knowing this feels like having a connection with Dylan despite his disappearance. Even if Alex described the place to her in detail, she gets lost on their way there, though, and it takes her some time to find it. Norman doesn't seem to mind the long drive. He appears to be absent-minded and for once Norma appreciates it. The quiet before the storm.

* * *

When they reach the glade, Norma briefly considers to turn the car around and drive back home. What good can come from this? But then she pulls off the road and parks the car between some trees. It is weird to be here. As if this place could tell her something about Dylan's whereabouts. But all she feels is iciness when she gets out of the car.

Norman gets out of the car, too, walking around aimlessly. Norma watches him, waiting for any sign that he recognizes or remembers something, but there is none.

"What are we doing here, mother?" Norman eventually asks. "There's nothing here."

It's cold and she is sad and tired and so damn exhausted. Norma thinks of Dylan, of the last time she talked to him on the phone. He sounded so happy about celebrating Christmas with Emma. She has always worried about Norman. Dylan used to be a side note in her life, an inconvenience. But not anymore. He helped her so much, has become the one person in her life, aside from Alex, she truly relies on.

"Do you remember how Dylan drove you here?" she asks.

"Yes." Norman nods although he clearly doesn't understand why she would ask him this now. "We were joking about a song on the radio."

He smiles at the memory and Norma smiles, too, imagining her two boys in the car together, having fun.

"Dylan said it was cheesy," Norman continues, "but Emma said it was one of her favorite songs and..."

Norma's smile fades as she tunes out. There is no way Emma was in the car. Her lifeless body never left Seattle. Whatever Norman believes to remember is not real. The image of Norman and Dylan in the car joking around is replaced by Norman driving, Dylan sitting next to him injured and bleeding.

"Norman..." But he doesn't hear her, is still talking. "Norman, Emma is dead."

This makes him stop. "What?" Norman freezes, looking at his mother with an expression of utter shock.

"She's dead," Norma repeats. "She and Dylan never flew to Europe. Dylan's car was found here, but we don't know where he is. Do you remember anything? I mean, if Dylan drove you to White Pine Bay and then left his car behind, he must be here somewhere, right?"

Norman starts to shake, his limbs twitching as if he is going to have a seizure. Just when Norma thinks he will collapse, he moves all of a sudden, running off into the woods.

"Norman, stop! Get back here!"

Norma runs after him. Neither of them hears her phone ring that she left in her bag in the car. At first she loses track of him and fears he has outpaced her, painfully reminded of a similar situation when he ran into the woods to kill himself. The memory takes her breath away. Then she detects Norman among the trees and pulls herself together. They made it back then and they will make it now. He has stopped running and is bent forward, mumbling something unintelligible she is only able to make sense of when she comes closer.

"IkilledherIkilledherIkilledherIkilledher"

 _Blood. There is blood everywhere, covering his hands up to his wrists,_ Norman remembers his dream that has become real.

Norma reaches out to touch him, but he slaps her hand away.

"Don't touch me," Norman yells. "Get away from me! I'm dangerous! Don't you know that?"

 _A woman is trying to crawl towards the front door but gives up, obviously too weak, resting in a trail of blood that seeps out of her body from various stab wounds._ It wasn't a dream but a memory. He killed Emma. He is a murderer.

Norma stands back. There he is. Her beautiful, sweet son. And he killed Emma. Probably. Most likely. It's funny how it doesn't surprise her, let alone diminish her love for him. He is damaged; they both are, the fact that he killed someone not changing anything. And yet… The moment she thinks of Dylan, Norma realizes that things have changed. Even if she liked Emma and mourns her death, truth be told, her absence will not really be a loss. But losing Dylan… The mere idea chokes Norma. He found Norman when he was kidnapped, took care of him when she left, protected her and Norman even when they weren't on good terms, risked his life for her. _I don't want anything to happen to you. You don't understand what it means to me to have a family finally._ That's what he said to her. He never told her he loved her, but that's what loving someone sounds like. She can't lose him.

"Where is Dylan?" she whispers.

Norman still seems to be in shock, but he heard her. "I don't know."

"Try to remember," she urges him on.

"I don't know."

"Where is he?" Louder, almost yelling.

"I DON'T KNOW!"

It's the mix of adrenaline, fear and desperation. Norma snaps, jumping at Norman and hitting him with full force. His chest, his face, her hands leaving angry, red marks on his pale skin.

"Where is Dylan? What did you do to him? Where is he? Tell me where he is! WHAT DID YOU DO TO HIM?" Norma is screaming at the top of her voice, a cacophony of despair and anger, as Norman just stands there, taking her blows without resistance.

Norma has never laid hands on her son before, but now she can't stop. She is aware that she is hurting him. It has to hurt when her hands feel as if they were on fire. But every physical pain is better than the silence that is awaiting her when she will stop and that will fill up with the worst heartbreak she has ever felt in her life. Dylan can't be dead. Norman can't have killed him. Just when Norma raises her hand to hit Norman another time, someone grabs her from behind and pulls her away.

"Norma, stop!"

It's Alex. He looks relieved and confused at the same time, darting doubtful glances at Norman as if he can't believe he has to protect him from his mother and not the other way round.

Alex holds Norma close, by radio requesting one of his deputies to come over, all the while ready to take Norman down should he attempt to attack Norma or to get away, but he does neither. Norman just stares into the distance. His body is present; his mind, however, has gone someplace else.

It was a pure coincidence that Alex saw Norma's car when he was passing by, searching for her. A faded green that looked familiar. When he found the car empty, he prepared for the worst. But then he heard Norma's screams. Never had screams sounded so sweet although he still can't believe the scenario he walked into.

He makes Norma sit in his car, waiting with Norman outside. Even now that Norman and Norma are detached from each other, their behavior is a perfect, mutual mirror, both of them ignoring the world. Save that Alex knows Norma is very well aware of her surroundings and only does it to protect herself whereas he can't tell what Norman is or is not aware of. His mind is a closed book to him.

It doesn't take long until the deputy is there, but it feels like forever. This has been a horrible day. First the devastating news regarding Emma's death, followed by his apprehension that he might have lost Norma. The adrenaline rush is wearing off. Alex can't wait to get away from Norman, this place, and everything else that is connected to loss and death. All he wants is to take Norma home.

"Take him back to the hospital and make sure he doesn't leave his room," he orders. "And bring my wife's car back to the motel after that."

Alex watches the deputy drive off with Norman. This time he is dead certain Norman will never come back to live with them. Ever.

"I'll take you home," he says to Norma as he gets in his car, tenderly brushing her hand, but she doesn't react and keeps staring out of the window.

* * *

Norma is unchangedly lethargic when they arrive at the motel. From what Alex heard when he found them in the woods, he can imagine what happened. Norma told Norman about Emma and Dylan, and Norman… well, whatever he did or did not say, an acceptance seems to have sunk in that weighs Norma down with every breath.

She is like a marionette. She gets out of the car when he pulls her out, walks up the steps to the house when he gently pushes her forward but aside from that, she doesn't seem to exist. Touching the small of her back, Alex notices that Norma's body is ice cold. The clothes she is wearing were meant for a hospital visit inside and not a longer stay outside.

He leads her into their bedroom. As soon as Norma lies down on the bed, she curls up into a ball. He needs to get her warm, could get in bed with her and warm her with his body, but somehow it feels as if a symbolic gesture is needed. Something that will separate what happened in the woods from her being here, safe and sound. At least in a way.

"Would you like to take a bath?" It would get her warm and wash off this dreadful day.

"I don't know." At least she talks to him.

So Alex takes it as a yes, runs her a bath, and helps Norma undress, her movements strangely robotic as if his beautiful, lively wife has been replaced by someone else.

He sits on the fringe of the bathtub. They have done this before many times. Norma loves taking a bath, the entire house smelling like her favorite bath supplement. And Alex loves to wash her hair or do other things to her, things your imagination comes up with when your wife is naked and smiling at you. Save that Norma is not smiling now so that nothing could be further from Alex's mind than coming on to her. There's one thing he can do though.

"Let me help you." He takes the shampoo out of her hands to wash her hair and massage her scalp.

Norma relaxes into his touch, at one point even sighing with pleasure. "Thank you," she says, snuggling into his palm.

Afterwards, Alex wraps her now warm body in a bathing towel, her skin rosy. She almost looks like herself again. He pulls her close, burying his nose in her neck as he inhales deeply. "You smell so good."

Usually, she would have giggled; it would have been the beginning of something. Today she puts her arms around him and holds him tighter than she has ever held him before. Norma hasn't dried herself off yet and Alex's uniform is getting wet through the towel that is wrapped around her, but he couldn't care less.

"I'm here," he says and feels her hold him even tighter if at all possible.

"I just want to go to bed and sleep."

Alex has no idea what time it is. In any case, it is too early to go to bed.

"Of course."

He doesn't bother to undress, just takes off his shoes and his wet shirt before he lies down with Norma and takes her in his arms.

She exhales. "Dylan is dead." A statement not a question. The quintessence of this day. One of many reasons why he needs to protect her against a world that once again has offered her nothing but cruelties.

Alex thinks _yes_ but says, "No."

Hope dies last.

* * *

To be continued

 _I know it's a hell of a coincidence that Norman left the hospital just when Alex told Norma about Emma, and moreover, crosses Norma's path afterwards, but I thought it would make for a nice dramatic twist. You got me there. ;) And I know the course of this chapter is kind of anticlimactic because Norman was no threat to Norma as some (most?) of you might have expected. But in my opinion Norman threatening her wouldn't have had such an effect on her as the awareness that he killed Emma and, much worse, might have killed Dylan, too. So... Is. Dylan. Dead? You'll find out soon. (Cross my heart and hope to die!)_


	19. Chapter 19

**A/N:** As always, thank you for your lovely reviews, guys! It was interesting to see a lot of Dylan love in your comments, especially in the anonymous guest review and the review from Wicked House. I've always had a soft spot for Norma's and Dylan's relationship. So it was nice to see that there are others who enjoy it, too.

And now on with the story...

The usual **disclaimer** applies.

* * *

Time heals all wounds. At least that's what they say.

Norman is in Pineview. The day after he had been brought back to the hospital, Romero reported what happened in the basement and how Norman got his graze wound. It set things in motion. Norman's institutionalization was a given, Pineview the facility of choice.

Of course Alex had told Norma about it before he made the report.

"I'm going to report what happened in the basement. And I will call the Seattle PD and tell them what Norman told us about how he came to White Pine Bay." When she didn't react, he continued, "It's hearsay, anyway, and their choice if and how they will consider it within the scope of their investigation."

Save they both knew it would turn Norman into a suspect immediately. Once they'd investigate Norman, Seattle PD would find out in a heartbeat that Norman used to date Emma before Dylan. A love triangle gone wrong. The bill of indictment would basically write itself. And no one would ever find out that this was not the love triangle that was responsible for Norman's undoing.

Alex expected opposition, but Norma just shrugged. It was no consent, far from it actually; he was aware of that. However, he needed to do it and her resignation to fate was the only chance he would ever get to go through with it.

Both of her sons gone in one way or the other. Both suspects in the investigation of Emma's death.

There are wounds time can never heal.

* * *

Norman stares at the ceiling. It's a pretty ceiling. Yellow, thoroughly painted, just as everything here in Pineview is nice and lovely on the surface. A stark contrast to the hell most of the patients are carrying around inside.

He tugs at his bonds. He is strapped on his wrists and ankles. It takes a lot to make them do that here in oh-so-lovely Pineview, but sometimes there is no use to be calm and polite, to take your medication and talk to your doctor. For what? He has lost everything. Being the perfect patient won't bring any of it back.

It was expected that they took him to Pineview after the sheriff had found him and his mother in the woods, even felt right to some extent. Although most of what happened in the woods after his mother had told him about Emma and Dylan is a blur, the fact remains that he must have killed Emma. The crucial factor being that he accepts the _must have_ based on what his mother told him and his dreams. It is the logical conclusion albeit Norman has no idea why he possibly could have done it.

And as if the images in his head of Emma dying were not bad enough, it's even worse to have these other images of Dylan, of all of them that are not true as he knows now. But he wants to hold on to these images, needs to because it was the last time he saw Emma and Dylan and they were so happy.

" _We're going to England, can you believe it?" Emma was so excited about their journey._

" _Are you sure it is ok for you to be back with Norma and Romero?" Dylan was so concerned about him, always the worried big brother._

" _Of course, it is. Just make sure to bring some nice souvenirs from your trip to Europe," he said and Dylan grabbed his shoulder in this tough but tender way that was his trademark when he wanted to show Norman how much he cared about him._

Norman tugs at his bonds some more as the images fade and are replaced.

" _Where is Emma? We need to turn around and go back to her." Dylan coughed, holding his stomach. There was not that much blood anymore, but the stab wound looked deep, ugly. He was barely able to remain conscious._

 _Norman was driving, pushing his brother away when Dylan reached out for him. "Stop it! It's your fault Emma is… not here." He awfully sounded like his mother when he uttered those words, the defensive gesture mirroring her moves perfectly._

No. He couldn't possibly have said or done that, or could he? There are so many things about himself he doesn't understand. His blackouts. That he turns into his mother sometimes to protect himself against someone or something as Dr. Edwards told him. Or when he discontinued his medication and instead of the expected hallucinations of his mother her persona took on an own, uncontrollable life. He is a danger to himself and others. That's why he is here. It exceeds his imagination that he could have hurt Emma or his brother. Then again, he must have. Otherwise Emma wouldn't be dead and Dylan would be in Seattle or Europe or... somewhere.

The first days back at Pineview were uncomfortable but endurable, the aftermath of the events in the woods still reverberating inside of him. So he only realized yesterday what should have been crystal clear right from the start. That his mother believes he killed Dylan. That this is the reason why she didn't stop the sheriff from locking him up and why she hasn't visited him yet and probably never will. This. He in here and she out there with her husband, beyond his reach, is the final arrangement. It was enough to make him snap. Hence the straps.

Norman closes his eyes and remembers his mother's beautiful face, her soft voice, the loving way she used to touch him. Everything gone. Forever. He tugs at his straps with all of his limbs at the same time, howling like a fatally wounded animal. There are steps in the hallway, approaching fast. They will probably sedate him. _Please_ , he thinks, longing for the abyss of oblivion. Anything that saves him from having to live in this state of agony.

* * *

Norma is cleaning the motel office. This early in the year there are no guests, but she needs to keep herself busy. Alex is at work, she is alone, and her thoughts will drive her crazy otherwise. She knows she should deal with what happened, get over it, move on, whatever, but she doesn't know how. One son in a closed institution, the other dead. How do you deal with something like that? Especially when you are used to push things to the back of your mind instead of actually coming to terms with them.

And yes, Alex insists that Dylan is not dead, only missing, but this is another thing Norma doesn't do. She doesn't cling to fake hope. People are generally disappointing, life is a cesspool, and they are all doomed. Period. If she had needed more proof of that, life has given it to her in spades recently.

She is numb all the time. Sleep is not restful, food not satiable, even Alex's love that used to shield her from anything doesn't feel the same anymore. It's not his fault. He is as affectionate and considerate as he has always been and then some. It's her, but she can't help it. All the bad things that happened are slowly but surely poisoning her and she can do nothing to stop it. Norma wrings out the cloth. Did she already clean the desk or not? She doesn't remember and wipes it clean again just in case. It's not as if she didn't have enough time.

The sound of wheels on gravel catches her attention. Norma walks out of the office as a car comes to a halt outside and a man gets out. Just when she thought things couldn't get any worse…

"What are you doing here?"

"That's not a nice way to greet a visitor, Norma."

"Last time you _visited_ me, you tried to blackmail me into telling you the whereabouts of my brother so that you could kill him. So forgive me for not being overly polite."

Chick gives her a crooked smile. "Yeah... Your brother. That's why I'm here."

Norma shrugs. "What about him? He's dead." And yet, her pulse quickens at the mere mention of Caleb. Will their twisted past have a hold over her forever? Even now that he's gone?

"You see, I didn't know that until this morning," Chick explains deliberately as if she cared what he does or does not know. "I thought he was alive and that I finally had some leverage."

Norma shrugs again. "So what?" The reference to leverage is kind of unsettling, but she has neither the time nor the patience to deal with Chick right now.

"I don't want you to get hurt, Norma Bates. You're a strong woman. I respect that." He tilts his head and looks at her in an almost affectionate way.

She figured as much when Chick didn't go through with his original plan to tell Alex about her and Caleb back then after he had threatened her. It's not as if she has to be grateful for it though. Albeit this giant of a man has created the most beautiful mosaic window for her, he is nothing but trouble whenever he shows up.

"Heard your kid is gone, locked away in an institution. That has to be difficult especially for someone who is such a devoted mother as you are."

Norma narrows her eyes. She can handle Chick threatening her. However, listening to him as he is talking about Norman and the situation that is tearing her life apart is too much.

"Stop right there!" she hisses. "I don't want to hear anything you have to say about it. It's none of your business."

He must have heard about it in town. Everybody is talking about it. Norma hates the pitiful glances people dart at her.

Chick nods and raises his hand reassuringly. "It's not that easy," he states, his manner of speaking irritating her as it always does. "But it never is, isn't it?" He loves his ominous wisdoms. Riddles and more riddles.

"I don't care about your cryptic allusions." Norma is getting angry and it feels good, reminds her how it is to be alive. "Just leave." She makes a dismissive gesture and turns around to go back into the office when Chick's next words stop her dead in her tracks.

"He would have bled to death if I hadn't taken him with me."

Norma has frozen, her heart pounding like mad.

"Your kid. It has some problems, doesn't know who he is sometimes. I don't think he hurt his brother on purpose." Chick curls his lips. "But he did it anyway."

Norma carefully turns around. Only now she notices the blanket on the load space of Chick's pick-up truck. It looks as if it is covering something or someone. She wants to run over and pull the blanket away; however she is transfixed to the spot as Chick continues to talk.

"The stab wound was pretty bad. He didn't regain consciousness often. I did what I could. Didn't want him to die but couldn't take him to a hospital either because I needed to keep him, you know, as leverage to make Caleb come out of hiding." Chick makes a face. "But fate had other plans."

He laughs in a genuine way that doesn't fit the situation at all and turns Norma's stomach. She eventually manages to move and approaches the pick-up truck, barely daring to breathe.

"I thought you should have him back," Chick ends his speech.

Norma climbs on one of the huge wheels, pulling herself up so that she is able to reach over the edge. When she tries to remove the blanket, her fingers are shaking so badly that it takes her three attempts until she finally succeeds.

There he is. Ruffled, blond hair, his clothes rumpled and dirty. Chick brought her the body of her son so that she at least can bury Dylan. Norma runs her fingers through his hair, her vision getting blurry as the tears begin to fall.

"I'm so sorry," she whispers. "So sorry." There is not enough air; she starts to sob uncontrollably.

That's why she doesn't discern that the fingers of Dylan's hand are twitching. Then he stirs, his lids fluttering before he opens his eyes, blue meeting blue, his voice raucous and doubting as if he can't believe this isn't a dream when he asks, "Norma? Is that really you?"

* * *

To be continued

 _So… Dylan's alive! Not all hope is lost. :)_

 _Aside from that, it feels as if the story is nearing its end. Right now, I think there will be 2-3 more chapters; some things still need to happen._


	20. Chapter 20

**A/N:** Thank you for your reviews and your support. I PMed those of you who reviewed with an account and I also want to say thanks to the guest reviewers who said that I brought Dylan back in such a great way and that they miss me. All your reviews always make me so happy – you have no idea!

Sorry for the delay. Here's the next installment. Hope you will enjoy it.

The usual **disclaimer** applies.

* * *

"Are you sure about going to see Norman?" Dylan asks what must be the fifth time.

"Yes." Norma is pacing across the room, gathering things up here and there just to put them down somewhere else. Displacement activities. "Where are my gloves? It's cold outside; I need them."

"Norma..." Dylan is leaning against the countertop in the kitchen, observing his mother as she becomes increasingly agitated. "I'm not sure you're in the condition to see him."

Norma stops and turns to face Dylan. "What's that supposed to mean? _Condition_. He's my son and I'm going to visit him. End of story."

Dylan grabs her arm and gently pulls her over to the kitchen table. "Let's sit down for a moment, okay?"

Although the tension in her body is palpable, Norma reluctantly gives in.

"You don't have to do this out of a sense of obligation," Dylan says.

Norma looks down, then back at him. At first glance he thinks she is going to cry or at least tear up, Norma's tears are constantly just a heartbeat away these days, but not this time.

"It's not… I don't feel _obligated_ to visit him," Norma stresses. "But I haven't seen him for a while now and I..." She shrugs and straightens up as if she has to convince herself. "I think I should go."

Norma darts a look at Dylan before she averts her eyes, but he has already seen the guilt. She wants to visit Norman – needs to, there is no doubt about that – despite the fact that Norman tried to kill him. It's been over a month that Norman was committed to Pineview. Actually it surprises him that Norma has held on for so long without seeing Norman, without even calling him as far as he knows. Dylan doesn't remember much of the time he was with Chick or at the hospital afterwards, steadily drifting in and out of consciousness. As it turned out, Chick hadn't done such a bad job patching him up. He most likely would have suffered from blood poisoning and died otherwise. Norma cried when he eventually was out of the woods. She loves him. The awareness still feels weird. Not that long ago she used to tell him she hated him on a daily basis whereas Norman was her one and only. Now Norman is gone and he is the one sitting here with her. And yet, would she come and visit him if things were vice versa? If it was him who had tried to kill Norman? Probably not, Dylan decides. But this is how things are. You can't measure love, and all in all, he would never have thought they would end up in such a good place. In his world that's more than enough.

Dylan grabs Norma's hand. "Okay, then go. But you understand why I can't come with you, don't you?" Maybe he will be able to face his brother again one day, part of him hopes he will whereas another part of him wants to condemn Norman for all eternity.

He feels Norma's hand twitch in his when her instinct tells her to pull it away, not because of his touch but because of his words that remind her of the situation. She has never actually said it; Dylan has never heard her admit that Norman tried to kill him. _He hurt you_ , she would say when she visited him at the hospital. _He is sick; he didn't know what he was doing._ Apologies and justifications, just as she has always justified Norman's actions. Save that this time she can't ignore what happened. That's why she hasn't visited Norman. Until now. Apparently a mother's heart is able to forgive anything.

"Yeah, I do," she answers brusquely.

Her guardedness stings and feels like rejection. Norma presumably loves Norman, the murderer still more than him, the near murder victim.

Perhaps she saw the disappointment in his eyes, perhaps her maternal instinct tells her what is going on – either way, Norma squeezes Dylan's hand. "You know I love you, right?"

It catches him off-guard; he will never get used to her displays of affection. "I...err...yeah, sure."

She doesn't seem to mind that he doesn't say it back. Norma pulls his hand towards her, kissing it before she stands up. "I gotta go." She casually runs her fingers through Dylan's hair in passing, leaving him behind with this well-known feeling somewhere between ache and comfort only Norma is able to unleash.

* * *

Just as Norma puts her coat on, Alex comes down the stairs.

"What are you still doing here?" Norma asks surprised. "I thought you had gone to work already."

"I'll drive you," Alex states, clarifying, "...to Pineview," when she stares at him.

"How did you...? No! I mean, you don't have to…," Norma stutters.

"I know, but you were talking about maybe wanting to go today last night and I thought I'd keep you company."

Norma holds his gaze. "Alex... He's in Pineview. He's locked up. Nothing can happen."

"I'm not worried about that." Alex puts his jacket on.

"Then why..."

He sighs audibly, "I don't want you to go there alone, okay? Not after everything that happened."

When she tilts her head and wistfully smiles at him, Alex knows she is about to give in but still has some concerns.

"Don't worry, I won't go inside with you," he erases them. "I'll wait in the car."

"So you're Sheriff-Alex-to-good-for-this-world-Romero again, huh?" she teases him, relieved to be able to focus on something else than the upcoming visit of her son.

"Yes. It's a limited edition. Only for you. Might as well make full use of it," he teases her back while keeping a straight face as only he is able to.

Norma lets him pull her into his arms. "I might," she whispers, relishing the brief moment of peace. "I might."

* * *

The closer they get to Pineview, the quieter Norma becomes. Alex almost expects her to tell him to drive back home after they have arrived because she is sitting next to him without any indication that she is about to get out of the car.

"You don't have to do it," he says.

"Not you, too," she sighs annoyed, but it's obvious that she is mostly annoyed at herself.

"You know Seattle PD was here to interrogate Norman," Alex says.

Somehow it feels as if she should be aware of that before she sees her son; he might as well make use of her hesitation to go in. Alex told her about it as soon as they informed him, but her reaction was so indifferent back then that he couldn't tell whether she actually conceived the information or preferred to deny Norman had become a suspect regarding Emma's murder.

Norma nods. "I know," she responds absent-mindedly, staring out of the window at the entrance, her fingers flexing around the lever but not opening the car door.

When Alex reaches out to touch her, she flinches.

"I'm sorry," he apologizes.

She snorts. "For what? For being nice to me? For being the perfect husband? It's my family that made the mess not you." Norma takes a deep breath. "I'm sorry." She intertwines their fingers. "Thank you for coming here with me."

They sit next to each other in silence some more.

"What about Chick?" Norma asks out of the blue.

"What about him?"

"Shouldn't he be punished for kidnapping Dylan?"

"Norma, we have been over and over that. Technically he didn't kidnap Dylan because he was unconscious the entire time. In fact, Chick saved his life so that it's even unclear if a charge of failure to render assistance will stick because he didn't take Dylan to a hospital."

"That's not even a real charge," Norma moans. "Can't you do something else?"

"Like what?"

"Like… I don't know. Beat him up. Kill him."

Alex looks over at his wife. Sometimes she scares him. Her moods are as volatile as intense. Someone needs to be punished for what happened to Dylan. She doesn't want it to be Norman; so it has to be Chick. Even more so since his testimony exonerated Dylan and turned Norman into the main suspect.

"He almost let Dylan die," Norma mumbles and it's unclear whether she is still talking about Chick or about Norman. Her anger has faded away as fast as it arose, her eyes inevitably drawn to the staircase leading inside.

Then, with a sudden move, she opens the car door and gets out.

Alex watches her disappear within Pineview's pretentious walls. He wishes he could be with her, but this is something Norma has to pursue on her own.

* * *

Norma doesn't know what she expected. After the initial shock had worn off, she tried very hard not to think about Norman all alone in Pineview. The moment she sees her son, though, Norma realizes that their reunion will be as awkward as their last encounter here when Norman confronted her about marrying Alex. She didn't announce her visit in advance; Norman didn't know she was coming to see him today, his body rigid when she embraces him. Norma has been worried that she might have trouble being close to him, considering what he did to Emma and Dylan, but the moment she looks at him, all her doubts are resolved. He still is and will always be her son. That's what she whispers in his ear when she holds him tight while he is more or less unresponsive, his hands only briefly brushing her back.

They sit on the sofa in the lounge, the same sofa they sat on when he accused her of sleeping with Alex. At least Norman sits beside her this time and is not towering over her, blaming her, even if his passivity is almost as frightening. Somewhere between the sweet boy he used to be and the cold-blooded murderer she can't bring herself to believe he is, her son has gotten lost.

"How are you? Are they treating you well? Do you eat enough?" No matter what or who he is these days, she will always worry about him. He looks thin, dark shadows under his eyes. The idea that the demons tormenting his soul don't let him sleep, tugs at Norma's heartstrings.

Norman studies his mother. Deep down he is happy she has come to see him. Finally. If it's actually her. _Yes, it is_ , he assures himself silently. The nurse told him so and the staff never is part of his hallucinations. So it's probably safe to say that this really is his mother. He missed her so much. There are no adequate words to describe this aching feeling that has turned him into a hollow shell of his former self. And he is so tired. Dr. Edwards keeps telling him that he has to be patient, that therapy and medication need time, but he has been here for weeks now and nothing has gotten better. Admitted, his blackouts are not as bad anymore. They still happen, however, only in a different way, not prolonged episodes but brief flashes that rip through his reality when he sees or hears things that are not there but that are hardly to distinguish from real life. Considering that his blackouts, episodes, hallucinations, whatever you want to call them keep taking place to this day despite the fact that he is taking more medication than ever before tells him that his condition is serious. Right now he is hearing two voices. The voice of his mother sitting next to him and the one in his head that is not his mother but insists she is and that she is the only one who knows what's best for him, whispering nasty things.

 _She's only here to silence her conscience._

 _She doesn't love you anymore. Not after what you did._

 _She loves the sheriff now. You know that. Why don't you accept it?_

"Stop!" Norman hits the side of his head with his palm and whatever his mother, his real mother, has been saying is interrupted; he wasn't listening, anyway.

She stares at him, holding her breath. Then she contorts her face as if she is going to cry any moment, reaches out and slowly pulls his hand away from his head, caressing his fingers in the process.

"I'm here, Norman," she assures him. "I know I haven't come to see you for a while, but I'm here now and I won't abandon you, ever, no matter what happened. You have to believe me."

 _Lies, lies, lies…_ The voice in his head is getting louder and meaner.

Norman's fingers twitch. He wants to hold his mother's hand so bad, squeeze it to show her that he appreciates her concern, needs her love, needs nothing more than her being right here with him.

 _Are you so gullible? Don't let her play with you!_ A scream, threatening to rip his eardrum up.

"I want to believe you," Norman says, fighting the voice within, his body trembling due to the effort it is taking. He can't screw this up now his mother finally is here, grabbing her hand with both of his. "How can you still love me?" Norman frames his greatest fear, his emotions stripped-down. This is the only thing that matters. "After what happened to Emma and Dy..."

"Shhhh..." She puts the fingers of her other hand against his lips, looking at him with a pained expression before she drops her gaze at their intertwined fingers. "I don't know how, but we will be able to get through this, Norman." She looks up again, straight in his eyes. "Because we have to, because I'm your mother and I'm not giving you up. Do you understand?"

Norman nods as the voice in his head wondrously fades away. The built-up tension leaves his body and takes all of his energy along. He almost drops forward into his mother's arms. She flinches a bit due to the unexpected impact but then holds him, his head lingering against her chest, his arms around her as she tenderly caresses the back of his neck.

"I love you. I'm so sorry," Norman repeats over and over, a mutter becoming a sob.

Norma holds her son. Everything she told him was the truth. She won't abandon him; they will get through this. But something is different. The cord between them has become frail. Things changed for good when she sat next to Dylan in the hospital, praying that he would survive. And maybe this change is irreversible. Only time will tell.

"It's okay," she comforts Norman with a confidence she doesn't have.

Only long after she is gone Norman realizes that his love confession was one-sided, that despite her affectionate and assuring words, his mother didn't tell him that she loved him, too. That has never happened before.

* * *

Alex watches Norma wipe away some tears when she approaches the car, but she fakes a smile as she gets in.

"So how'd it go?" He conceded privacy to her so that Norma could see her son. That doesn't mean he intends to remain passive when it comes to Norman.

Norma doesn't look at him, pretending to be busy with her seatbelt. "Fine, everything's fine."

When Alex doesn't start the engine but keeps watching her, she sighs. "Can we just drive home, please?"

"Norma…" Alex touches her shoulder to make her turn and look at him, noticing fresh tears shimmering in her eyes.

"That's not Norman anymore," she breathes. "One moment he is distant and the next he breaks down. He hears or sees things that are not there; I don't know. I should've gotten him help earlier. I should have… should have..." Norma is breathing much too fast as Alex pulls her towards him, taking her in his arms as far as practicable considering the tight space of the car.

She buries her face in his neck, sobbing unintelligible words it takes him a while to understand. "I want my son back."

"Shhhh," he tries to comfort her although he can't possibly know whether her wish will ever come true or not, if he even wants it to come true.

Alex looks over Norma's shoulder at the opulent entrance of Pineview, at the walls that keep his step-son away from them; something he has ever wanted if he is being honest. Something about Norman has always felt wrong, right from the start. So it should feel like a victory. He has his wife for himself after all. But the price is too high; this can't go on for the rest of their lives.

Things have to change.

* * *

To be continued


	21. Chapter 21

**A/N:** Only two more chapters, guys. I can't believe this story is coming to an end; it makes me sad...

The usual **disclaimer** applies.

* * *

There is no one else here that early. He can't see the opposite bank of the lake. It's foggy, the landscape dreamily surreal due to wafts of mist. Spring will arrive soon, but for now it's ice cold, especially in the morning.

Alex has been coming to the lake regularly ever since he was a child. It was his refuge when his parents were fighting, and later on, when his mother committed suicide. Nature is unimpressed by the aberrations of the human mind, by our struggles and flaws. Nature simply exists.

He will miss this place. There is not much he will miss regarding White Pine Bay even though he has been living here more or less all his life, but he will miss this. The quiet. The solace.

This is goodbye.

* * *

 **Six weeks ago**

Alex has been thinking about change since he drove Norma to Pineview for the first time. Witnessing her breakdown after she had seen Norman triggered the need to do something about it, more than just a temporary fix, more than just comforting her. Save that it is impossible to do that while they keep living here. The demons of their past clutch and claw at them wherever they go.

He can't walk through town or do his job without meeting people that are connected to his parents, without being in places that bring back bad memories, Bob Paris' demise merely being the most recent one. Alex has no idea how Norma is able to cope with her bad memories, basically having to relive them day in and day out, since they are related to their direct surroundings, to the house and the motel. Keith Summers raped Norma in their kitchen, Zack Shelby died on the steps that lead up to the house, Annika Johnson in front of the motel in Norma's arms. He could go on and on; misery and death have left their mark all over the place.

Bottom line: Nothing should stop them from leaving, but here they are, still in the same place that has tainted their lives and continues to do so. He didn't expect their marriage to work, to last. Now that it does, though, he wants to live the best version of it possible. Leaving White Pine Bay to start over somewhere else, something that felt like an unwanted, forced adjustment when he was threatened some weeks ago, has turned into an opportunity, a shot at another life. She deserves better. But how tell her? It would be a decisive turning point, and no matter how much he loves her, Alex can't assess Norma. Would she be relieved or fight him? He wants to do the right thing, keeps waiting for the right moment albeit he is aware there is no such thing. So he is waiting for a sign. This is about their future and too important to screw it up before it even has begun.

* * *

When Alex comes home after work, he finds Dylan in the kitchen. Dylan has been living with them since he was released from the hospital. At first it was necessary because Dylan was in no condition to take care of himself and then he simply stayed. It's funny how comfortable their life together is. No fights, no sneaking around as it was with Norman.

"Hey," Dylan greets him.

The name thing. That's the only thing that's somewhat awkward. Dylan never addresses him by name, probably because he can't get used to calling him Alex. Moreover Dylan also avoids to address his mother by name lately, Alex has noticed. He used to call her Norma, but the recent events seem to have triggered an alteration Dylan is not ready to handle as yet. Somehow they are all living something in between these days.

"Hey, Dylan. Where's Norma?" It's a reflex and always his concern whenever Alex comes home and doesn't meet her first. He has to know she is okay, will never forget how it felt when he believed he had lost her for good. Maybe this need will ebb away some day, but for now it's there, every day anew.

"Doing my laundry. You know how she is." Dylan shrugs self-consciously. "I told her I'm grown up and can do my laundry myself, but she just won't allow it."

"Yeah." Alex nods. "Tell me about it."

"Actually, I've been waiting for you," Dylan says, a hint of nervousness becoming noticeable, "I want to talk to you about something."

"Okay. Go ahead."

"I will move back to Seattle. I talked to my boss, my former boss. Maybe you know that I just had started a new job when…," Dylan's voice trails off, the horrible events of that fateful night a subject that is not openly discussed in this house, only in the course of the investigation. "I thought I wouldn't want to go back, but now I think I should. I mean, I appreciate everything you have done for me, but I can't live here forever with the two of you." He takes a deep breath. "Anyhow, I'm not sure how my mother will react to the idea."

Alex doesn't think of Dylan as his step-son. He is formally, but to him Dylan is more like a buddy that helps him split wood or fix the car. So much has changed. Dylan and he started out as opponents on different sides of the law, as blurry as the law always has been in White Pine Bay. Now they are on the same side.

"She will miss you; that's for sure," Alex says. "As to the rest… It's not going to be easy for her; so thank you for giving me a heads up, but I think you're doing the right thing and I'm not saying that because I don't want you here anymore."

"Thanks." Dylan seems to be relieved. "I just wanted you to know before I tell her."

"Tell me what?" Norma's voice catches them off-guard. She is standing behind Alex in the doorframe. "Tell me what?" she repeats, her intonation leaving no doubt that she insists on knowing what is going on.

"I'm moving back to Seattle," Dylan lets her in on what they were talking about. He might as well get it over with.

Norma stares at him. "Oh..." Rejection and disappointment are written all over her face.

"I really appreciate what you two have done for me," Dylan repeats what he already told Alex, "but I need to have my own life again."

Norma straightens herself. "Yes, sure," she agrees albeit she obviously doesn't. "I just thought with Norman not here anymore that you… I thought... Nevermind! Have fun leaving me. Again," she can't hold back the snark eventually, turning around all of a sudden and hurrying upstairs before Dylan is able to come up with a response.

He wants to follow her, but Alex retains him. "Give her a moment."

* * *

Norma is in his room, folding his clothes. When Dylan walks in, she is just tenderly smoothing down one of his shirts, startling when she becomes aware of his presence. She puts his shirt away, opening and closing the drawers of his dresser with way more force than necessary. Once she is finished, she faces him, an uncomfortable silence setting in.

"When?" she asks, keeping her distance a couple of steps away from him.

"Soon. I have not set a date, but I talked to my former boss and he wants to give me a job. Not my old job, he had to give it to someone else, but another job."

"Where will you live?" As soon as forensics were done, they terminated the lease of the apartment Emma and Dylan had shared. Dylan was still in frail health at that time, barely made it to Emma's funeral and only kept some personal things in memory of her whereas Emma's father took the rest of her belongings.

"I'll find a new apartment."

She looks at the floor. "It's just… Last time you moved to Seattle, I almost lost you."

Dylan approaches her, touching her arm hesitantly, uncertain whether she will reject his touch or not. "Mom..." The moment she hears that word, Norma practically throws herself in his arms, holding him so tight that he has trouble breathing, but he doesn't mind. It feels good. "I won't leave you," Dylan promises. "I will always be there for you. And you have Romero. You're not alone."

He feels her nod against his neck. Then she sniffles and leans back to look at him. "What about Norman?"

"What about him?"

"Will you be there for him, too?"

"Mom..."

"Will you ever visit him?"

"He killed my girlfriend and tried to kill me."

Norma creases her face into a pained expression. "He is sick and doesn't remember." She knows what happened from Dylan; Norman's memory of that night has never fully returned, only fragments. Norman wanted to go back to White Pine Bay. Emma and Dylan disagreed. They had a fight that got out of control. Because Norman had stopped taking his pills, his illness had progressed and turned into a delirious paranoia that forced him to remove every obstacle that seemingly tried to separate him from his mother even though these obstacles were his brother and his best friend.

"That doesn't change what happened. I'm not sure this is something that can be forgiven."

"You don't have to forgive him to visit him."

So this is how she does it, swallowing whatever resentment she might feel so that she is able to go and see him every couple of weeks because that's what she believes a mother has to do and because she for sure still loves Norman despite everything.

"He's your brother."

As if he needed the reminder. His younger brother that he always had meant to save from his mother, from himself finally turned against all of them. It's painful enough as it is. Why does she have to keep pushing him? _Because that's who she is_ , he reminds himself. Some things will never change, no matter how close they are these days.

"Don't push me, Norma," Dylan states, the use of her name the threshold of their constantly tottering closeness. One moment she is mom, the next she is Norma. A lifetime of struggle between them cannot be erased within some weeks and Norman always has been the wedge between them, between her and anyone really.

He catches the flicker of hurt in her eyes when he calls her by her first name. "Okay," she gives in, "but promise me that you will try."

Isn't that what he has been doing all his life? Trying? To survive. To earn the love of a mother he has been attempting to hate for much too long and to no avail. To be a better man.

"Yes," Dylan agrees although he is not certain this is true when it comes to Norman.

"Thank you." She enfolds him in her arms again. Her embrace is not as tight and desperate as it was minutes ago, but it still feels good; it always does.

* * *

Later, while they are getting ready for bed, Alex watches Norma. She is so strong, the most resilient person he has ever met, but the news about Dylan weigh heavily on her, apparent in every move she makes. As difficult as the situation is for her, maybe this is the sign he has been waiting for. With Norman in Pineview and Dylan moving out soon, there is nothing left for Norma in White Pine Bay aside from him. She bought the motel to build a future for her and her sons, sons that are no longer here anymore. The motel wasn't supposed to be a ghostly reminder of a future that turned out to be vastly different from what she had been hoping for.

"What if we move, too?" Alex asks. He didn't intend to say it right now or to speak so bluntly, the words just came out.

"What?"

Judging from the look on her face, Alex can tell that his suggestion has taken Norma by surprise. He feels sorry that he dumped it on her on this of all days, but now the cat is out of the bag. He can't unsay it and perhaps it's not even that bad, perhaps it's better to discuss this now that things are already in motion, just rip the bandage off, make a clean cut and all that, instead of watching things fall apart little by little.

"You've had nothing but bad breaks since you moved here. And you deserve some good ones. Why not move somewhere else, sell the motel, start all over again?"

Norma looks as if she is going to cry but doesn't say anything.

"Norma?"

She practically collapses on the bed, covering her face with her hands. Alex rushes over to her. When he gently tries to pull her hands away from her face, he feels dampness. She is crying.

"I'm sorry," he says. "I shouldn't have suggested it, not today, not when Dylan just told you he will move out."

"It's not that," Norma sobs, finally looking at him. She takes several deep breaths to calm down. "I'd love to move somewhere else," she whispers, "leave all this crap behind." She snivels. "But I feel guilty for wanting to do it. How can I start over when it means that I have to leave Norman behind?"

Norman has been charged with murder although it is quite clear that he won't end up in prison, anyway, but most likely will be sentenced to remain in a closed institution for good or at least for a very long time.

"You don't have to leave him behind. He's your son. You'd never do that. You can still visit. We can. Or we move him, too, closer to wherever we will decide to go."

Norma has stopped crying. "I've been running all my life. From my family, from men, from unbearable circumstances. Is this what I'm doing? Am I running away again?" Her voice is quiet, hardly audible as if she is talking to herself.

"No you're not," Alex assures her. "We're moving together and I haven't run away from anything in my entire life."

"I won't get much money for the motel and the house." Norma's thoughts are disjointed as she is trying to adjust herself to the idea that they will live someplace else. "But I can get a job. I've always worked. I don't like to be idle and I don't want to be merely the sheriff's wife." She pauses, her eyes wide open. "What about you? Don't you want to be the sheriff here anymore?"

"Actually I talked to the Seattle PD. They have a vacancy and I could start there. And if not that, then I'll find something else, somewhere else. As long as we're together, I don't mind."

"Seattle, huh?" Norma holds Alex's gaze, her expression tender. "You want us to move there because of Dylan?"

"I thought it couldn't hurt if you're close to him. You two have come such a long way."

A smile lights up her face. Norma intertwines the fingers of both of their hands as she loves to do. "So… I can still visit Norman and we will live close to Dylan?" She leans into him.

Alex nods. "Yes, that's the plan."

"It's a good plan." Her lips brush his. "A very good plan. Let's do this." Norma pulls him towards her so that he loses his balance and topples against her, pushing her down on the bed in the process.

"Yeah, let's do this," Alex mumbles and he could be talking about the move or about something else entirely.

* * *

 **Presence**

Some birds flap their wings, the sound interrupting Alex's trip down memory lane and bringing him back to the here and now. He has to drive to the motel. The movers will arrive any moment and Norma will go crazy if he's not there.

He picks up a flat stone, throwing it across the water so that it strikes the surface several times before it disappears amidst the lake.

"Goodbye," Alex whispers to no one in particular, but maybe his mother heard him, anyway. When he kept his mother's ring after her death, he didn't consider it possible that he would ever give it to another woman. Now he can't wait to start over with his wife.

* * *

To be continued

 _In a way, I could have ended the story here, but I think I want to do an epilogue with maybe the one or other surprise…_

 _One more thing: I have no knowledge whatsoever about law enforcement and don't know whether it's realistic that Alex transfers from being the Sheriff to the Seattle PD, but for the sake of the story I made myself believe it, and in case this is a mistake, I hope you forgive me. ;)_


	22. Chapter 22

**A/N:** So this is it. The final chapter/epilogue. When I started to write this story, I neither expected it to get that long nor that I would love it so much to lose myself in this parallel universe with these beloved characters. I'm so sad right now; it's so hard to let them go.

This is a shout-out, however, to all of you who supported me throughout writing this story, especially to those of you who reviewed, many of you repeatedly: bateslover123, caitieg23, crh, DoomedSometimes, ilovecat, Jada, Normero, romero, sotiredofthis, specterbowle, Thalium, WhereAreWeGoing, Wicked House and the countless guest reviewers. THANK YOU SO MUCH !

Oh, and in case you only want to read happy things these days, the first part of the chapter has a brief unpleasant moment if you're squeamish, but the rest of it should make you feel quite good. :)

So here we go...

The usual **disclaimer** applies.

* * *

The dinner table is laid beautifully. Norman didn't expect his mother to give him such a warm welcome considering their relationship has been more than a little strained recently, but she outdid herself. He darts a shy glance at her, catching her already looking at him with a wistful smile.

"Eat, honey. It's getting cold."

She is such a radiant beauty. Not that he forgot about that during his time at Pineview, but the effect her presence has on him is unmatched. He missed her so much, missed this, being at home.

Norman remembers another dinner; the only time they were having dinner all together right at this table – he and his mother, Dylan, Emma, even Caleb and the sheriff. Back then he was drifting into madness already, hated that he had to share his mother with other people. When they clinked glasses, he only waved his around, pretending to do so but in fact trying to avoid everyone. He has changed. This time he won't screw things up.

"Thank you for letting me be here," Norman says.

His mother's smile turns from wistful into plain happy while the sheriff's smile is artificial. He can't blame him. He pointed a gun at him, threatened him with an ax. But these things are past. Everything will be different from now on, better.

Norman looks over at the empty chair. Dylan is not here. He visited him once, called him several times, but they can't get over Emma's death. He can't blame him either. He killed his brother's girlfriend, even tried to kill him, the mere thought still takes his breath away. Emma not only was Dylan's girlfriend; she also was his best friend. Now that Norman is medicated with a drug and sees things clearly, at least most of the time, it feels as if these were the deeds of another individual, of someone who looked like him, shared the same name but otherwise was an entirely different person.

His mother and the sheriff talk about something that happened in White Pine Bay today while Norman is eating and simply enjoying to be there although it will always be difficult for him to accept that his mother is married now, that there is someone else sitting with them at the dinner table. He dwells on his thoughts until he hears a man to his right clear his throat. Norman turns his head and frowns.

"What are you doing here?" Norman whispers because it's not a polite thing to ask and he doesn't want his mother to overhear his question.

"Well, I could ask you the same?" the man answers with a shrug.

Something is wrong. Norman focuses on his food. Did he forget to take his medicine? No, he remembers taking it earlier like every day. His knife slides through the roast meat. It's a drip at first but becomes a trickle quite fast – a pool of blood on his plate. Norman gags. What is going on?

"Mother?"

"What is it, Norman?"

"I think something is wrong with the meat."

She looks at his plate confused. "What do you mean? Don't you like it?"

"No… It's..." The blood is sloshing on the table cloth. Oh my God, is he having another blackout? Not now. This hasn't happened for a while and now would be the most inconvenient time. Norman is fixated on the blood. It has to be a hallucination, but he can't bring himself to look away.

"Norman?" he hears his mother's concerned voice from far away as if he was under water. He doesn't want her to worry about him. Not ever again.

 _Stop_ , he pleads silently. _Please stop._

Norman feels a hand on his shoulder, turning to look at the man that is sitting next to him. He doesn't like him, doesn't want to be touched by him. Let alone that he can't be here.

"You're dead," Norman hisses at Caleb.

"Did you just threaten me?" the sheriff asks.

"No," Norman exclaims. "I was talking to..." He turns to his right, but there's no one there, of course. He was at Caleb's funeral, knows he is dead. Everything is falling apart. This was supposed to be their reunion, a new starting point and now his damned illness is ruining everything. "It's nothing," he backpedals, well aware that his mother as well as the sheriff know it's not nothing.

His mother has put her silverware down and leaned back, looking sadly at the sheriff who has stood up.

"I think I should take you back to Pineview," he says.

The panic chokes Norman; he can't talk. This cannot be happening. He was supposed to stay over the weekend. It is their first reunion. He shakes his head. _No._

The sheriff reaches out his hand. "Come on, son. Don't make this even harder for us than it already is."

Norman wants to scream or run, but he is frozen in place just as the blood skims his hand that he laid down on the table. Only now he realizes what is going on. The ending is always the same.

He wakes up with a gasp.

* * *

"I don't want to wear this shirt at school, Mom," Cole exclaims.

Before Cole, Norma didn't know that boys could be so obsessed with their clothing. Neither Dylan nor Norman ever had such a phase.

"Stop being dramatic. There is no time to get changed. The school bus will here any moment," Norma cuts him off, well aware he is only seconds away from throwing a tantrum. Like mother, like son.

She runs her fingers through his tousled, blond hair, his blue eyes gazing at her. He looks like Dylan at that age, a memory that is as fond as guilt-ridden because she never paid the slightest attention to Dylan when he was a child. Norma hopes Cole won't make a scene like yesterday when suddenly his favorite pants had turned into an object of hate. He only seems to listen to the authoritative voice of his father these days, but Alex is at work already.

Norma feels a chubby hand clutching at her face and catches Lily's sticky fingers, kissing them and hushing her at the same time, rocking her on her hip. As much as she was excited about having more children, it was Lily's birth that made her bliss truly perfect. A girl, finally, after three boys, looking just like her father with dark hair and dark eyes. They never said it out loud when she was pregnant, afraid to push their luck, but Norma knows that Alex was hoping for a girl, too, and as happy as she is that Lily looks like him, she also knows he was a bit disappointed that his little girl didn't have her blonde locks and light blue eyes. Something that was forgotten soon, of course. These days he is swollen with pride when people tell them his beautiful daughter resembles him.

The school bus drives up outside, and as every morning, Norma has to urge her son on so that he doesn't miss it, "The bus is there. Hurry, Cole!"

The boy picks up his satchel and kisses her in passing, the almost drama about his shirt forgotten as fast as it arose out of nowhere. Norma remains standing in the doorframe, watching him until he is on the bus, humming a melody to Lily who is impatient for her mother's attention, the same feeling setting in she has every day although Norma is hesitant to embrace it because it was so rare in the life she led before Alex and she is afraid it will be taken away from her again as soon as she indulges in it. This is what happiness feels like.

"Norma?" Alex's voice comes from somewhere far away. "Norma?" Louder now. "Shit! We overslept! Aren't you on early shift today?"

She groans, remembering the last evening. They were out, having dinner and wine with some friends. A little too much wine as her headache attests. Norma sits up, disoriented, expecting her two beautiful children to come running into their bedroom any moment until she realizes it was a dream. Cole and Lily don't exist. She has been having this recurring dream for a while now, but it never was so detailed before. She can still smell the scent of Lily's baby skin.

"What?" Alex is getting dressed in a hurry but caught her expression, anyway; somehow he always does. This man is able to sense her moods before even she herself knows what is going on. It's frightening.

"Nothing." Norma shakes her head. "Too much wine yesterday." This is no discussion for an early morning, let alone when he overslept. "I don't have an early shift," she changes the topic. "I'm on late shift today. Oh, and I don't know if I already told you. Dylan comes by to have dinner with us tomorrow."

"Ok, that's great," Alex says. Somehow he has managed to get dressed in less than a minute. "I'll just brush my teeth and skip breakfast." He kisses her and is about to head to the bathroom when he turns around again. "And it's not nothing. We need to talk."

Norma opens her mouth to say something, but she doesn't know what and he doesn't expect an answer. So she just nods and then lies back, listening to the faint sounds of her husband in the bathroom as he is getting ready for work. Norma takes a deep breath. He knows. How, she has no idea, but he does. Maybe he caught her looking a little too long and a little too wistfully at a photo that shows her and Norman or Dylan as a baby. Maybe he just knows because he knows her, inside out.

It's not even that she is missing something. Ever since they moved to Seattle, life has been treating them well. Very well, in fact. Alex loves to work at the Seattle PD, and after a brief phase of wondering what she could do, Norma ended up at a hotel. Given her attitude to be _as keen as I need to be_ , she is the perfect mix of concierge and complaint manager and likes it surprisingly much. She still has a temper, but being with Alex has taken off the peaks of her mood swings and conniptions. Plus Norma has made friends for the first time in her life. (She doesn't count Christine Heldens as a friend. Christine is one of the people who are just looking for a new distraction to act out their power, but she only realized that in hindsight.) Alex and she have become friends with a woman Norma works with and her boyfriend. It's weird sometimes when they share stories of their lives and Alex and she try to avoid topics like _my son killed my ex-husband and I killed my rapist_ even if Norma doesn't hide the fact that Norman is in a mental institution or Alex has to slide over parts of his past as the sheriff of White Pine Bay as far as his involvement in drug business and killing rivals or old companions is concerned. Aside from that, though, it feels good to have friends, someone outside family you can talk to or even rely on. _Normal_ , although normal will always feel like an inaccessible, foreign concept, no matter whether she is living it these days. So, she doesn't miss having children with Alex. It's more as if her subconsciousness is sending her a message through her dreams.

* * *

"Did you have that dream again?" Dr. Lindon asks.

"Yes," Norman confirms.

"Tell me about it."

It's redundant in a way. The dream Norman had the night before and its various manifestations are a recurring subject of their sessions, and by now, his therapist knows all about it and its signs in the aftermath. In the end, you could say, though, that everything they talk about is redundant. Norman is aware of his illness, and yet, he can't turn it off like a switch. Otherwise he wouldn't be ill. So here they go again.

The court considered it to be proven that Norman had murdered Emma and had attempted to murder his brother but found him not criminally responsible due to his mental illness. He was sentenced to remain in a mental institution for an indefinite period of time as long as his attending doctors would account it necessary.

When his mother and the sheriff moved to Seattle, they arranged to have him transferred to an institution closer to them. The third change of his treating therapist in a row was problematic at the beginning. Norman was in a bad place and didn't even trust Dr. Edwards anymore after he had been involuntarily committed to Pineview again. But now things have simmered down. They heavily increased the dose of his medication to suppress his fits of anger and hallucinations so that he is in a constant state of numbness, not unlike the one he was in during his first stay, only even more distinct. Norman appreciates it though. It makes him forget how much he misses his mother, at least most of the time. Only his dreams have no drug induced filter and cut right into his soul, mocking him with the opportunity to be back home just to take it away from him when he wakes up.

His mother, and sometimes even the sheriff, come to visit Norman on a regular basis. The relationship between him and his mother is still tense but not as damaged as it was right after he had returned to Pineview and she left without telling him that she loved him. They are far from how close they used to be, but things have gotten better recently. Her touch lingers a little longer, her smile reaches her eyes, she hugs him tighter. Maybe there is hope.

* * *

"Hey, mom," Dylan greets Norma as soon as she answers the phone. "I just wanted to tell you that I can't come to dinner tomorrow. We got a last minute order and I have to deal with it today and tomorrow."

"Oh, come on, Dylan. Can't someone else handle it? I only see you every other week."

"I know. I'm sorry."

They all have changed due to the events that made them leave White Pine Bay, but Dylan's change is the most obvious one. He is overly correct, grateful his old boss gave him another chance, calling her mom all the time. Norma misses the old Dylan, the bold version of him that challenged her. He strives to be the perfect employee, the perfect son but seems to have forgotten to simply live his life. Dylan doesn't visit Norman, called him once but never again and she still doesn't know what happened; he wouldn't tell her. Let alone that he doesn't seem to have any interest in finding a new girlfriend. Norma loved Emma as well, but eventually he will have to move on.

"It's not because I tried to pressure you into visiting Norman last time you were here, or is it?" Norma asks.

"No."

There is a brief, uncomfortable silence. They are close these days but still haven't learned how to argue.

"So when?" Norma eventually gives in.

"Next weekend."

"Ok then, next weekend. And don't chicken out of it this time."

"I won't. Bye, mom."

"And Dylan?"

"What?"

"Bring a girlfriend."

"Mom... you know that..."

But she has already hung up.

* * *

"So…," Alex says after dinner. The introduction to the talk he thinks they should have.

They have an unspoken agreement that topics that might lead to an argument will only be discussed after dinner so that they at least have this peaceful time together. It doesn't always work but usually, like today.

"So…," Norma shrugs although she knows exactly what this is about.

He looks at her, holding her gaze. "You want more children?"

Norma gasps for air, completely taken aback. She didn't expect him to address the topic so bluntly.

"I… I don't know," she stutters. "I hardly think about it when I'm awake, but I have these dreams and they are so real..."

Her expression becomes dreamily, confirming what Alex has been suspecting for a while now. Norma wants to have more children even if she is not ready to admit it to herself. Something that doesn't come as a surprise, considering one of her sons is locked away in an institution for attempting to murder his brother among other things.

Alex smiles. She wants to have another baby. His baby. He loves her so much, her determination as well as her insecurities. The idea to be a father had never felt right until he met Norma. Not only she has been having these kind of dreams.

"What?" Norma smiles back at him timidly.

"Let fate decide."

"What do you mean?"

"You're on birth control. Discontinue it."

Pure happiness, then doubt followed by fear until she screws up her face and gives him another smile, wistful this time.

"I don't know," Norma states. "The dreams are so real, but dreaming about it and having a baby is a different matter. Children are a lot of work. Let alone that I… I'm not the best mother. Look at the mistakes I made with Dylan and Norman. It's such a risk. I'm not sure I want to risk that again. Do you?"

"Norma… I don't need children to be happy with you, and sure, you made mistakes in the past; we all did. But we left the past behind and I wouldn't mind a little girl that looks like you."

This is the smile that is solely reserved for him in moments like these when she realizes that he adores her. He can practically see her convincing herself, the tension leaving her body.

"Or a boy," she breathes.

"Or a boy."

"So whatever happens, happens?" She reaches out and intertwines the fingers of their hands, pulling him closer.

"Yes. Whatever happens, I'm in."

He has never seen her look so happy before.

* * *

Norman is lying in his bed. He is afraid to fall asleep and have the same dream again. When his mother unexpectedly called him a little earlier, she sounded different, even happier than usual. Her happiness always stings him because it reminds him that she is happy without him. If despite or because of his absence, he can't tell but assumes both.

He takes a deep breath and tries to concentrate on the good things. His goal still is to get better. Some day it won't be a dream anymore. Some day he will be home again and his mother will tell him that she loves him. Norman slowly drifts into sleep and the dream begins...

* * *

Dylan is driving home. When he has to stop at a red light and sees a couple arguing, he is reminded of the almost fight he had with his mother when he called her to postpone their meeting for dinner. That's all he seems to be doing these days. Postponing things, avoiding risks, delaying life.

He used to be reckless because he had nothing to lose. Then, all of a sudden, he had everything – a home, a family, a girlfriend – only to lose most of it again. His father and girlfriend are dead, his brother partly the reason for it, and he is living in an apartment that doesn't feel like home because there is no one there to greet him after work. And yet he can't bring himself to move on, to build a new life because look what happened the last time he did that? What if fate is just waiting for him to move on so that it can punish him through another of its cruel twists? What if he loses his mother this time?

A neon-colored advertising sign flickers through the twilight of dusk. _What are your dreams?_ He stares and stares, feeling himself tear up until the honk of the car behind him jolts him out of his thoughts. Dylan keeps driving, but the flickering letters stick with him. He can't go on like this, needs to start somewhere. He consults his watch. It's late, but not that late, or maybe it is, but he simply doesn't care. Their dinner meeting is only supposed to take place in a couple of days. It wouldn't be the first time, however, he pays an unexpected visit to his mother. And this time she might even be happy to see him. Dylan turns the car around. If chance will have it, his mother has some leftovers of her infamous turkey pot pie. He never has told her it's his favorite food. Perhaps he should start with that.

* * *

Norma snuggles into Alex. He has already fallen asleep; their earlier lovemaking was wild and passionate and left both of them spent. It is one of the things she appreciates most about being with him – that their relationship is not one-dimensional. She can be his passionate lover one time, and next time they make love, it's soft and tender. He protects her at all cost, but that doesn't mean he thinks of her as weak.

She has never even had normal, and all of a sudden, her life is almost perfect. It scares her. In the past, there have always been repercussions waiting for her around the next corner whenever she thought she had managed to start over. But now Alex and she might become parents. That would be wonderful, and if not, being husband and wife will be just as wonderful and so much more than she has ever dared to hope for. So maybe she actually will win.

Maybe this time.

* * *

 **Five years later**

Norman stands in front of the pretty house, taking a deep breath. He hears voices inside. Children's voices. Today is the first day he will meet his half-brother and half-sister. His mother refused to bring them with her when she visited him at the institution. But now his doctors have allowed him to visit them at home for the first time.

He walks up to the door and rings the bell. There is running inside and shouting.

"I want to open the door."

"Take care, Lily."

The door opens and the prettiest little girl Norman has ever seen in his entire life smiles at him. She looks exactly like Norma – blonde locks, light blue eyes, even the way she wrinkles her nose is an exact replication of her mother. From photos Norma showed him, Norman knows that her little brother, Cole, is an exact replication of his father, the sheriff. Something tugs at Norman's insides. A resentment he will forever associate with the sheriff and is not able to get rid of, regardless of the fact that he is so much better these days. But also a yearning, a love so strong for this little girl it might even compete with the love for his mother. The emotion eerily resembles what he felt for his mother when he was younger and it all started. Then he blinks and it is gone.

"Are you Norman?"

"Yes, I am. And you must be Lily."

"Mommy, Norman is here." Lily turns around, running towards what he assumes must be the kitchen because where else would his mother be, the appetizing smell telling him that lunch is almost ready.

Norman closes the door behind him, just standing there for a minute, listening to the domestic sounds, suddenly uncertain whether this is real or a dream. Footsteps approach him, his mother appearing in the doorframe.

"Norman. You're here." She embraces him.

Yes, he is and he still can't believe it. It's not the house anymore where he used to live with his mother, but a home, nonetheless. Their home, but maybe it will also be his one day. They walk into the kitchen where the sheriff just puts his son in the baby seat and the familiar feeling of resentment surfaces briefly. Then Lily takes his hand, looking up at him and all he sees are his mother's eyes.

"Can I sit next to Norman, mommy?"

Maybe he will wake up any moment, but he will enjoy this as long as it lasts.

* * *

"There are no happy endings

Endings are the saddest part

So just give me a happy middle

And a very happy start"

\- Shel Silverstein

* * *

THE END

 _One more thing: I know there are several Normero 'baby fics' already, but I had always planned to include this scenario at the end and didn't want to change it. So I hope you didn't roll your eyes when that certain topic came up. And in case you were wondering – it was no continuity error but intentional that the children in the last part looked like the opposite of what Norma had been dreaming about. Just so you know. Thank you for reading. :)_

 **Merry X-Mas and a Happy New Year ! xoxo**


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